


Misfits In Love

by nana_banana



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Asexual Character, Bisexual Character, Blindshipping, Deathshipping, Gay Character, Language, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Puzzleshipping, Romance, Sexual Scenarios, Thiefshipping, Violence, Violetshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:12:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 124,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4161750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nana_banana/pseuds/nana_banana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atemu is a notorious high school delinquent; Bakura and Melvin, the loyal goons at his side. Kaiba is a straight “A” student at the top of the heap. Though the four keep the world at bay and their hearts safe with misplaced anger and walls of hostility, they're still just whiny teenagers pining for love. Maybe you can't get hurt when you're making sure no one loves you, but when you find the right person, you welcome the angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling Misfit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this fic in January of 2015 and began posting it in June of the same year. Everyone should have a high school AU, don't you think?
> 
> I decided on Melvin for Yami Malik's name because once Little Kuriboh said it, I was sold (also, the whole Malik/Marik/Mariku thing is annoying as hell). I do know Yami Malik is not an actual person, but I kinda really like him, so he's a real character in this story. Also, I am not sorry for Yami Bakura's name.
> 
> Enjoy.

There were cars speeding by on the highway in the seedier part of town. The noise was music made up of honking, squealing tires, and the ever-entertaining “vroom-vroom”. The cacophony above served well to cover up the screaming coming from below the overpass as three youngsters soon found out. They did not hesitate to take the place from the homeless, shooing the poor souls with threats to their lives, following it up with a beating when they refused to budge. As it was, the alcove under the highway would have been deserted except for four teenagers who lingered, the four wore the same blue slacks and jackets. Three of the youngsters were standing and the fourth kid was on the ground, covered in dirt, uniform disheveled and torn, and a face smudged by blood from a broken nose.

“Which one?” asked the only teen excited to be there, a small hint of an English accent in his rough words. He was holding an aluminum bat tight in his pale hands, knuckles bloodied and straining. The sleeves of his jacket and baby blue shirt were rolled up to his elbows to show strong pale forearms. A smile dragged the right corner of his mouth upwards towards his amused brown eye. The teen on the ground struggled to scoot backwards, the pain locking his body down and making it a futile effort. A high whimper of fear ripped from his throat as the bat gently nudged each of his knees. “Come on, pick,” the teen with the accent pressed. His smile growing wider by the moment.

The frightened teen quickly shook his head, his black locks jiggling feebly.

Farther away, a third teen standing watch sighed, his back to the scene, shoulders slumping heavily. He did not speak, but it was clearly understood by his slumped stance how exasperated and bored he was with the whole scene. The teen with the bat only rolled his eyes at the other's back, his smile turning to a grimace. He turned to his other companion, a slightly older teen with an open jacket, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to show smooth bronze-colored skin. The one with the bat raised his shoulders in question, jerking his head towards the silent one as if to say: _What's his deal?_

His ally's pale lavender eyes were narrowed and he his spiked, platinum-blonde hair shook when he shrugged abruptly, mouth drawn to a thin line. He was opening his mouth to speak when the silent teen in question spoke up in a smooth, deep voice.

“Does it really matter? Just do both and let's go. I'm going to miss my history class because of you.” And as an afterthought, “It's my favorite.”

“Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch, ya nerd. I'm doing it, I'm doing it.” The teen with the bat gazed back down to the kid who had succeeded in backing away a couple of feet. He followed and smirked. “Nice try, kid, but you're not getting away until I take at least one of your kneecaps. The other is a bonus.” His taunting smirk turned menacing as it widened, a slight glint of crazy shining in his eyes. “So, which one?”

The blonde let out a growl and motioned for the bat.

“I'll do it, goddamn it. You're taking too long!”

The bat was wrenched away sharply and the teen turned his gaze upon his friend.

“No,” he screeched, “it _has_ to be me!”

“Then fucking do it already,” the other snapped.

Another loud, weighty sigh left the third teen, interrupting what would have undoubtedly been a long squabble.

“Fine! Hold him down, Melvin,” said the boy with the bat. The blonde moved forwards and, before the kid on the ground could scurry away, stomped down on his chest, extracting the victim's breath in a pained grunt.

“Go ahead, Bakura,” he said with an oddly refined wave towards the kid trying to wrench his leg off. The boy pounded on Melvin's leg with his fists, but the blonde paid him no heed.

Bakura advanced then and immediately stepped on an ankle to keep it in place. And before the kid could aim his next frenzied kick towards him, he swung the bat down hard.

Screams rang in the air, drowned out by various beeping and speeding on the raised road above them. Bakura frowned after his fourth swing and looked to Melvin.

“Think I got it?” The blonde's lips and brow puckered in thought as he assessed the sobbing mess below him.

“I didn't hear anything snap or pop, but this brat is making such a racket that I can't hear shit anyway. Give him a couple more.”

“N-no … please,” begged the boy, snot dribbling messily from his nose and into his bloodied mouth, “I'm so – s-so sorry.”

Bakura glared down at the kid and his pallid face contorted in disgust.

“Bloody _pathetic,”_ he hissed, “At least have the balls to tell me to piss off, you shit. And next time, think twice before you fuck with my little brother.” He gripped the bat tighter and raised it above his head to swing. “Because the next time you fuck with him,” he continued in a savage whisper, “will be the last time you fucking breathe.” He ended his words with a swing and Melvin laughed at the resounding snap that followed.

* * *

The three were arriving at their high school, when the teen with dark red and fluffy curls looked at his watch, quickly tucking it back underneath his sleeve. _“_ _Great._ Missed the fucking class. Thanks a lot, Bakura.”

Bakura looked at his friend who only glared back at him with violet-red eyes.

“Piss off, your highness. You'd understand if you had a brother,” Bakura snapped at him, brushing his long, white hair off his shoulder as he changed into his school shoes. Those reddish eyes narrowed at Bakura, but the teen said nothing as he struggled with his own boots. “Anyway, I seem to recall missing the midnight premiere of the new Star Trek movie because _some_ one decided that _he_ wanted some burgers right before!” The other scoffed at that, brushing his golden bangs out of his face when he straightened.

“Are you _still_ bitching about that? Like it was _my_ fault that some idiot went and started a hostage situation,” he groused, turning to proceed further into the school.

“Yeah, well, we missed it because of you!” Bakura yelled as he followed.

“It was last year! Let it go!”

“Not to pour gasoline on the fire, but we did get to see something much more entertaining than that stupid movie,” came Melvin's laughing reply from behind the pair.

The teen with wine-colored eyes gave Bakura a smug look. “See?” he said, “Not all of it was so bad.”

Bakura rolled his eyes, a snarl tugging on his lips. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and his companions stopped with him.

“Oh, don't look so bloody smug about it. You set a guy on fire, you didn't cure cancer.”

The other was about to reply when a soft voice suddenly spoke up.

“Big brother!”

Bakura whipped around to see a pale, mirror image of himself running towards them pack bouncing on his back; he paused in front of Bakura with a soft smile on his face. But where Bakura was all sharp angles and glares, this teen was gentle, up-turned nose, smooth cheeks, and smiling. The kid nodded in greeting to Bakura's friends and directed his warm, honey-brown gaze onto the rough Bakura.

“What do you want, Ryou?” was the gruff question the elder brother gave.

“Have lunch with me today, Touzoku,” said Ryou, a hopeful smile on his face.

Bakura scoffed and waved his hand in annoyance.

“Do you really think I have nothing better to do than eat with you, Ryou?”

Ryou's face flickered with hurt, but he remained composed and shrugged idly.

“Oh, well,” he sighed, “I tried. I guess it'll just be me and Malik again.” He turned on his heel and took two steps only to be halted by a hand on his shoulder. Bakura turned his little brother around, a placating grin on his face. In a blink of an eye, his entire demeanor had changed.

“Now, where are you running off to?” Bakura said sweetly, “I didn't say no. I was just _teasing!_ Of course I'll eat with my baby brother –”

“Quit the fucking pretense, everyone and their mother knows what you're really after,” said Melvin as he stepped behind Ryou and gave Bakura a scathing look. “He's off limits, you freak.” He made to turn, but Bakura smirked.

“Freak, huh? Hello, pot, I'm kettle.”

Melvin flipped him the bird and strode off towards the cafeteria in rushed steps.

“Why am I friends with you idiots?” came the slight whine beside Bakura. Bakura glanced at his friend who was busy running frustrated fingers through his thick hair, making it even fluffier than before.

“I don't know, Atemu,” murmured Bakura, “maybe it's because Melvin's your cousin and even if he weren't, he and I are still the only people on earth who can deal with your amount of crazy.”

The boy paused in his fretting and gave him a dour look.

“Good point,” he responded grudgingly and walked away, leaving the brothers behind.

* * *

Atemu arrived at the full cafeteria and headed towards the first kid he saw with an adequate, still unopened lunch. He paused in front of him and waited until the kid looked up, face pinched with nervous worry and terrified recognition. Atemu leaned forward, hands braced against the table until he towered over the kid, keeping his face a neutral as possible.

“Can I have that,” he quietly asked the boy with no hint of question in his voice. He only stared, unblinkingly, into the boy's brown eyes. The boy shuddered and swayed away, holding his hands up in a weak attempt to defend himself.

“Please, t-take anything you want,” he muttered, looking away from those gleaming eyes. Atemu finally looked down at the lunch before him. With one brown hand, he swiped the sandwich and the opened chip bag, miffed that the current trend in school was to bring sandwiches. He noticed Melvin and his little brother on the other side of the lunch room.

“Thanks,” he said dismissively, and walked towards his cousin. He sat down only to receive a peeved, disapproving glance from the younger boy, Malik. Neither Malik or Ryou liked their misbehaviour. And they never hesitated to make their opinions known. Melvin chuckled beside him.

“Still stealing lunches, huh?”

“It's not stealing if they're willingly giving me their food,” said Atemu with a slight tilt to his lips. He looked at the bag of chips with the cartoon shrimp closely and narrowed his eyes at the inside. He had not had shrimp-flavored chips in a long time. Beside him, Melvin cackled and pointed to the bag he held.

“Dude, at least have the decency not to take food that's already been opened!”

Atemu studied the chips and took one, sniffing it. He popped it into his mouth and made a face.

“Ugh, _shrimp_ _,_ you can have them,” he shoved them towards Melvin who only laughed harder as he took the bag. Melvin grabbed a handful of the chips and stuffed them into his mouth, chewing between his chortles. Sick, Atemu looked away and to his sandwich. He pulled off the plastic and lifted the bun, noting the plain insides of chicken, cabbage, and yellow sauce, and reassembled it. He took a bite with a thoughtful hum as Bakura slid into the seat before him. He had seated himself right next to Malik, which did not go unnoticed by the overprotective brother.

“Bakura, are you sure you want to sit there?” asked Atemu pointedly. Melvin was already glaring and Malik was blushing, determinedly not looking at Bakura or anyone else for that matter.

“He better move his stupid ass outta that chair before I remove it for him,” Melvin threatened, his upper body going rigid. Bakura slid away slightly. For all that he fought and challenged Melvin, Bakura knew better than to cross him. Luckily, Ryou arrived just in time to slip between Malik and his brother. Malik hid his pout with his eating utensils and he huffed.

“Melvin, would you please stop threatening everyone who so much as _looks_ at me?” he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “Your stupid, weird, territorial thing is the reason I don't have any other friends other than _Ryou!”_ He straightened in his chair and stared his elder brother down. “I'd like to have more than one friend and I don't understand why you still won't let me be friends with Bakura. If he's okay to _you,_ why can't he be okay for _me?”_

Bakura leaned around Ryou and smirked at Malik.

“Don't worry, Malik, I'll still be your _friend –”_

“Like _hell!”_ Melvin suddenly shot up and Atemu let out a long-suffering sigh, gazing at his sandwich in contemplation. He took a couple more bites and glanced at his cousin warily, tensed to spring up at a moment's notice. He put down his sandwich and gripped Melvin's forearm. Not his wisest choice by far as Melvin swung his angry face towards him instead.

“The teachers are looking,” Atemu said quietly and Melvin glanced around to verify before sitting once more, muttering foul curses to Bakura under his breath. Bakura only grinned, victorious, and began to pick at his food with his chopsticks.

“Also, no offense, Bakura, but don't breathe on me, your breath smells like curry,” Malik commented offhandedly, causing Bakura to flush, much to Melvin's delight.

Atemu picked up his sandwich only to notice Ryou looking at him nervously, teeth worrying his bottom lip.

“Yes?” he queried and Ryou jumped in surprise, laughing in embarrassment at his reaction. He rubbed the back of his neck shyly and hesitated.

“Um, would it be okay if I traded places with you?” Atemu glanced at Malik who was checking his teeth in a small mirror, then at Melvin. His terror-ific cousin was staring eerily at blank space, his jaw twitching and his fingers flexing atop the table. Melvin looked positively murderous. It would be a poor choice to sit next to Bakura at that moment. Atemu directed himself back to Ryou's hopeful smile and almost felt guilty about his answer.

“Hell no,” said Atemu and he looked back to his lunch without a second thought.

Ryou frowned and then nodded in understanding. He poked Bakura in the side who only huffed and ignored him.

“Hey, Touzoku?” Bakura grunted something and Ryou smiled. “Can you sit on Atemu's side of the table, please?” Another grunt from Bakura. “See, I met a new friend today and I invited him to have lunch with us.” Bakura finally lifted his head from his rice and frowned at his younger brother.

“You made a friend?” he asked skeptically and Ryou nodded excitedly. “Who is it?”

“He's new here,” said Ryou happily, “so I helped him find his classes and decided to make him into my friend.”

Bakura's face was still puckered in doubt.

“Right. And what kind of poor sod is he to to want to be _your_ friend?”

“Uh, Ryou?” The new nervous sound came from behind Atemu and Ryou's face lit up like the sun.

“Yuugi!” Ryou nudged his brother and Bakura groaned in annoyance as he switched sides, sliding in next to Atemu heavily who reluctantly made space for him. Atemu tensed between Melvin and Bakura. It figured that he would still end up in the line of fire.

“Everybody, this is Yuugi. He's new. That's my brother, he likes to be called Bakura. Doesn't like his given name.” Ryou patted the newly vacated seat and the new voice sat. Atemu ignored the new turn of events and focused on his sandwich and the imminent danger that was Melvin's obsessively-protective side.

“Hi, Bakura.” The teen in question reverted back to grunting in reply as he dug back into his rice.

“You know Malik. That's his big brother, Melvin –”

“You didn't tell me you made a new _friend,_ Malik,” said Melvin with false sweetness.

“Shut up, Melvin. I told you I'm not going to deal with your crap anymore. I will make as many friends as I damn well please! Hey, Yuugi.”

“Hi,” said the small anxious voice again. Atemu could see a figure bowing slightly out of the corner of his eye and he took a large bite of his sandwich.

“Oh, and this is Atemu.”

Atemu finally deigned to look up, food in cheek, and his entire body froze. The new arrival was cute – no, he was _g_ _orgeous,_ even in his blue school uniform. Atemu was not very proficient in poetry or creative writing, but at that moment, he desperately wanted to know how to write sonnets so he could write dozens upon dozens on the perfection that was this boy's face.

He had a similar hair-color scheme to Atemu's though the boy's hair was darker, the red more of a raisin color, blonde bangs, but no highlights in his dark, curly hair. It was also fine unlike the thick, messy tumbleweed on his own head. His eyes were wide and gentle and a wonderful, soft plum color. His nose was slightly upturned like Ryou's though Yuugi's was smaller, causing his face to look more round than it already was. And though he looked pale and frightened, Atemu was struck dumb at how beautiful he was. The newcomer bowed with an awkward smile, hands gripping the edges of his tray tightly as he waited for Atemu to react. Atemu said nothing. He only continued to stare dumbly, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He had never seen such a gorgeous person before.

“Atemu, you could at least say hi,” said Ryou with a pout.

“Humph,” Atemu instantly tried to greet the boy only to realize with absolute horror, and a small spray of food, that his mouth was still full of sandwich. He slapped a hand over his mouth as he hastily tried to swallow. Unfortunately for Atemu, he had forgotten to chew his new bite and he proceeded to cough up a lung while he choked on the large piece of sandwich, pounding his chest for air. Melvin smacked his back with a loud guffaw and Atemu spat out his bite into his hand, his brown face flushed red, embarrassment coiling through his gut. Bakura was laughing uncontrollably at his side and clinging to the table for support.

Atemu vaguely registered Malik looking at him with raised eyebrows and Ryou looking about to reach out. Yuugi, the beautiful newcomer, was gazing at him in concern and Atemu hastily grabbed the sandwich's wrapper, tossing the sodden piece of sandwich into it and stealing Bakura's napkin to wipe his hands. Avoiding the boy's stunning eyes, he took Bakura's bottle of milk and took a sip with an annoyed yell from his friend. When he managed to clear his esophagus, he placed the bottle back on the table where Bakura eyed it grudgingly, his amusement gone. Atemu then slowly stood up, turned, and started walking. His face burned, his teeth gritted until they hurt, and shame licked at his insides.

_Way to go, you dumbass,_ he thought furiously to himself. Melvin's insane, raucous laughter followed him out the door and into the hallway beyond.

 


	2. Beware of Atemu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuugi is worried that he provoked the beast, though his best friend promises to protect him. Malik is in denial, and Ryou plots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy. See you in the end notes!

Annoyed and with a sore pride, Atemu soon paused before a vending machine. It was just before the start of his next class, and his stomach was grumbling. He had not finished his lunch. He eyed the treats in the machine and looted around his pockets for spare yen. Coming up empty, he glared at his hands and glanced around. There was a kid behind him, coins in hand, quietly waiting for his turn. Atemu cleared his throat and the teen reluctantly met his gaze, pushing at the bridge of his glasses so they would not fall off.

“Yes?” the boy asked meekly, cowering before Atemu's harsh gaze. Atemu's lips twitched and he loomed over the boy, unblinking as he held out a hand, palm up.

“It seems I don't have any spare change,” he said lowly, “do you mind.” For the second time that day, Atemu was not asking. The boy sighed helplessly and handed over the change in his hand, backing away when Atemu turned to make his purchase. But before he could so much as look through his choices, he froze. He turned his head back to the hall and his wine-colored eyes met furious violet.

Yuugi approached, lips pursed, eyes hard, pausing before Atemu. Gone was the nervous little thing from before. Though Yuugi barely reached his chin, Atemu felt the strange urge to wince.

“Did you just take his money?” Yuugi waited patiently for Atemu to answer, and huffed when he did not, turning to the kid wilting behind Atemu. “Did he take your money?” The kid was against the wall and trying to make himself look as small as possible. When Atemu turned his gaze upon him as well, the boy flinched.

“I didn't take it. He gave it to me. Right?” Atemu's voice was clear and low as always and he gulped in relief that he could still speak clearly. The boy nodded quickly at Atemu's words and Yuugi snorted.

“I don't believe you. Give him back his money. If you need money, just take mine.” Yuugi snatched the money out of Atemu's palm and passed it back to the boy who hurriedly took off. Atemu's hand shook slightly as Yuugi reached into his pockets and handed over his own change. Atemu felt the skin burn where Yuugi touched it. “Don't bully other kids. Don't take their lunch money. Don't steal their things. You might be Ryou's friend, but where Ryou is undyingly nice, you're a creep.”

Atemu's stomach flipped and might as well fallen off a cliff for the swooping feeling he got when Yuugi's angry eyes met his own. His fingers clenched around the warm coins and he gulped.

“Yuugi … I –”

“I really don't want to hear it. And it's Mutou. Yuugi is reserved for _friends_ only.” Atemu's entire being wavered for a moment. Yuugi despised him already. He frowned at the thought. It hurt more than it should. The short teen hesitated to say something else and frowned, turning away.

Atemu reached out and took his hand gently, and Yuugi jumped a mile, eyes wide and scared. It was then that Atemu realized that Yuugi was all bravado, sticking up for other people with no courage of his own. Still, he laid his hand over the other's and placed the coins back into his palm. Atemu would not take Yuugi's money. He doubted he ever would. Then, without a word, he left the trembling boy alone, hands clenched in his pockets, food forgotten.

* * *

“You did what now?” Yuugi frowned at his old friend and repeated his words for what seemed the thousandth time.

“I told off Atemu and he let me live.”

They were in a small corner restaurant. The two boys sat at a table by the window, both with their respective milkshakes. Yuugi wore his school uniform while the other boy was in casual clothes.

“You did _what_ now?”

“Jounouchi, stop already!” The blonde blinked his brown eyes at his short friend and sat back in his chair, swirling his milkshake with his straw and steadying it with his other hand. He frowned in bewilderment.

“Atemu … _Goutei,_ Atemu?” Yuugi shrugged his narrow shoulders and fiddled with his own straw, chewing the end of it nervously.

“Ryou didn't mention his family name,” Yuugi shrugged again.

“Is it the dude who his friends call _pharaoh?”_

Yuugi shrugged a third time.

“Okay, um, is it the dude with really dark red hair and blonde highlights?” Yuugi looked up and nodded.

“Yeah, that's him. How did you know? He's a bully. I know bullies don't like it when people stand up to them, but I had to. You know I had to. He didn't seem that threatening, but I still feel lucky to be alive.”

Jounouchi snorted before he nodded vehemently.

“Not that threatening? Yuugi, you _are_ lucky to be alive. That guy's an asshole at school and I've heard really bad rumors about him. I even heard once that he set a guy on _fire.”_ Jounouchi's face adopted a look of extreme worry. “It was nice knowing ya, Yuug'.” Yuugi's face fell into utter terror and Jounouchi winced. “Don't worry, though, I won't let anything happen to you. I'm here for you. You can count on old Jounouchi!” he said, thumbing at himself and sticking out his chest heroically. Yuugi breathed a sigh of relief and suddenly whispered.

“Do you mind walking me home then?” Jounouchi laughed and Yuugi reddened, but his friend was nodding.

“Sure thing. I'm not letting you outta my sight, man. I'm coming back to school tomorrow too, so you know I'll be there to protect you.” Yuugi flashed a bright smile to his old friend and sighed.

“I'm glad we're going to the same school now.”

Jounouchi nodded. “Yeah,” he chuckled, “it's about time you left that stuck up rich school and came to a normal school.” He smirked and rolled his eyes. “Even the _great_ Seto Kaiba isn't going to –”

“Um, Jounouchi? If you're going to go off on another one of your weird Kaiba tangents, I think I should just order another milkshake.” Jounouchi frowned and crossed his arms, lips quirking into a sullen pout.

“I don't know what you're talking about, Yuugi. Let's not talk about it at all, actually.” He cleared his throat and stood. “Hey, let's get ya home before it gets dark and Atemu comes out to feed.” He winked playfully and pulled his wallet from his pocket as the waitress came over. Handing her some bills, the pair patiently waited for her return. When she came back with his change, Jounouchi shuffled his short friend towards the door.

Upon opening the door, to Yuugi's dismay, several familiar voices washed over him.

“I said I _don't care,_ Ryou. How many times do I have to bloody say it!”

“Bakura, don't you think sending someone to the hospital warrants a _little_ worry? What if he tells on you, you idiot!”

“Shoulda thought of that before he messed with my little brother.”

“Bakura, this is serious! Malik, tell Melvin to stop laughing!”

Yuugi bit his lip and turned away from the voices, his walk shaky. Beside him, Jounouchi followed unknowingly.

“Yuugi!” The boy winced and stopped walking, turning and forcing a sheepish smile onto his face. Jounouchi paused as well and turned. Yuugi could not see his face, but the way his friend's body went very still and tense told him everything he needed to know.

“Ryou!” answered Yuugi as the boy happily bounded up to him, followed closely by Malik. Behind them, stood the trio, Melvin, Bakura … and Atemu. Yuugi expected to see Atemu glaring at him, but to his surprise, Atemu was not even looking his way. Instead, the teen with rich, ochre skin had narrowed his violet-red eyes onto his friend Jounouchi. Yuugi's heart skipped a beat when they flashed a bloody crimson in the glare of the sun. He shivered.

“We were just about have some milkshakes together,” Ryou explained as he motioned to his group. Bakura winced, muttering something about coffee and Melvin hummed happily, albeit frighteningly. Atemu took no notice of anything, keeping his eyes firmly on Jounouchi and Yuugi almost told his friend to run. “Why don't you join us? You and your friend?” Ryou asked him, glancing curiously to Jounouchi.

“Yes, join us quickly though, because Atemu has his murder face on and the sooner we get milkshakes into him, the better,” quipped an uneasy Malik. Ryou quickly looked behind himself and Yuugi noticed Atemu had finally looked elsewhere. Currently, he was glaring at a poster in the window of the restaurant, his hands clenched, back straight, with an ongoing tick in his jaw. To anyone else, Atemu would appear to have an extreme hatred for green tea frappuccinos. Melvin was edging closer to his younger brother, keeping a wary eye on Atemu and Bakura was frowning at his friend's reaction. Bakura moved in front of his friend. Foolishly, in Yuugi's opinion.

“Not in public,” Bakura stated quietly though the wind carried his words to Yuugi, who blinked, “Setting someone else on fire won't end well for you. No matter how much money your 'rents throw at the cops.” The blood in Yuugi's veins turned to ice at the quiet comment. Next to him, Jounouchi edged closer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Uh, actually Yuugi's on his way home. We just ate together. I'm Jounouchi, by the way, Yuugi's bestest friend.” Jounouchi held out his hand to Ryou with his usual, large grin, and Ryou shook it. And like a switch, Atemu huffed, his face turning neutral, as he entered the cafe.

“How delightful,” said Melvin as he let out a burst of laughter and followed after Atemu, quickly tugging his little brother after him, who waved to Yuugi before he was whisked inside.

Bakura, the only one left of the frightening trio, rubbed his hands over his face and sighed heavily. “Bugger me. Hurry and come inside, Ryou.” He entered the cafe then and Ryou pouted unhappily at Jounouchi and Yuugi.

“No harm done. You'll join us next time though, right?” Yuugi nodded and Ryou waved him goodbye, trotting after his brother. “See you in class tomorrow then!” The teen called over his shoulder.

As soon as they started walking homewards, Jounouchi spoke.

“Well, that was pretty scary. Did you see the look on his face? He looked like he was about to –”

“Set someone on fire?” gulped Yuugi.

Jounouchi winced.

“You heard that too then?” he asked his short friend and Yuugi nodded morosely.

“I'm not looking forward to tomorrow. And here I thought the worst I was going to face was a couple of bullies after my lunch money.”

“Pretty sure he wants more than ya lunch money, Yuug'.”

“Jounouchi!”

His best friend gave him an apologetic smile and patted his head, which Yuugi stubbornly brushed off.

“Don't worry. I'm with ya tomorrow.”

* * *

The next day, the classroom was filled with the endless droning of the teacher. The sunlight sent lazy beams onto Bakura's seat in the corner, making him warm and surprisingly content. He had given up all pretense of paying attention and had laid his head onto his hands, dozing lightly. Bakura could have been spending the day scaring the hell out of hitchhikers in the woods, but instead he was here. Because Ryou _told_ him to be here. Because education was _important._ Because he couldn't _afford_ to skip class anymore. Because blah, _bloody blah._ Bakura should have just grabbed Melvin and Atemu and dragged them to the woods.

The teacher stopped his droning and Bakura looked up to see Malik enter the room, holding out an envelope. Instantly, his drowsiness was gone. Perking up, Bakura sat straight and ran a hand through his messy hair, failing to tame it, and fingering his undone shirt buttons uncertainly. He made a lame attempt to straighten his uniform and crossed his arms on his desk. He hesitated, then put his chin on the back of his hand and his opposite arm across the back of his chair. He settled only to change his position again in the next moment.

Malik looked as stunning as ever. Even in the plain, school uniform, Malik garnered attention with his gold earrings, necklaces, and makeup. Bakura knew that more gold lay upon the teen's wrists as well. They were his trademark and though he always got in trouble with the teachers for his jewelry, and his makeup, Malik never took anything off. But what called Bakura's attention to Malik was not his gold or even the come-hither midriff Malik liked to display outside of school with cropped shirts. No. What called Bakura's attention to Malik was his fierce gaze and dazzling smile. It did not hurt that Bakura also had a thing for blondes.

Malik turned his way after what seemed several minutes of staring and sent him a pleasantly surprised smile before looking back to the teacher. Bakura braced himself at his desk to avoid becoming a puddle of goo on the floor after that. His stomach flipped and swayed on a trapeze and his heart fluttered in his chest. Bakura ignored these things. He watched as the teacher gave Malik the envelope back and hurriedly sent him on his way, earning a glare of dislike from Bakura.

* * *

“I saw your brother, by the way,” whispered Malik to his classmate upon returning to his desk. Ryou lifted his attention from his textbook to smile at Malik.

“Really? Was he paying attention to the class?” Malik shrugged and looked at his fingernails curiously, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“I dunno. I only noticed he was there after I felt him staring at me. Don't think he had any books on his desk though.” Ryou's face fell and he sighed.

“Well,” the pale boy said forlornly, “at least he was _in_ class.” Malik nodded to him, humming his agreement. Though it looked like Malik was more interested in his nails.

“Oh, could you tell your brother to stop staring at me so creepily? It makes me nervous.” Malik turned back to his work, blush still on his cheeks and Ryou laughed softly to himself. The way Malik and Bakura continued to dance around each other was quite entertaining to him. It had been, more or less, two years now and the pair had yet to realize their true feelings. Malik and Ryou's elder brother were hopeless. Ryou placed his chin in his hand and turned to Yuugi who was sneaking candy while the teacher was not looking.

“Hey, Yuugi, you're eating with us today, right?” Ryou turned his gaze upon his friend who stared at him like a deer caught in headlights, apprehensive and nervous, a cherry-colored sweet halfway to his mouth.

“Uh,” he said, biting his lip, “Will Atemu be there?” Ryou raised his eyebrows in surprise and smiled.

“Well, that depends, really. Sometimes he, Melvin, and my brother bugger off to be delinquents and sometimes he goes off on his own. He's quite strange. Did you _want_ him to be there?” Ryou asked coyly. A deep blush rushed into Yuugi's cheeks and the boy shook his head.

“No, it's just that I might have made him mad yesterday and I didn't want to be his victim, so it's not like I'm asking because I _like_ him or anything like that.” Yuugi laughed nervously and Ryou's smile faltered. He glanced at the teacher who was still unaware of their conversation and lowered his voice even more.

“What do you mean you _might_ have made him mad?” Yuugi chewed on his lip and looked at his desk, candy forgotten in his fingertips.

“Well,” he sighed, “I caught him taking some kid's money and I took it back and may have called him a creep?”

Ryou only stared at him like he was personally witnessing the Second Coming and Yuugi frowned. Worry began to bubble in his chest, he did not like the silence.

“What is it? Why are you staring at me like that?” The fear in Yuugi's voice grew and Ryou shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts.

“So,” he said, brows drawn together, “you said you took the money back. Like out of his hand?” Yuugi nodded silently and Ryou glanced down at his arms and blinked in confusion. “And he didn't break your arm?”

“He could've broken my arm?!”

“Mr. Mutou!” Yuugi snapped his head towards the front and quickly hid the hand with the candy. The teacher frowned disapprovingly at him. “We are in a classroom, Mr. Mutou. I encourage you to pay attention. I will not be lenient even if you _are_ new to this school.”

When Yuugi looked properly chastised, she turned back around and continued her lecture. Yuugi wilted in his chair and let out a small groan.

“Well,” Ryou whispered, continuing the conversation, “the last time someone tried to take something from Atemu, he broke their arm. The again, it didn't happen _in_ school. Were you guys alone when this happened or were there witnesses?” Yuugi was not sure he liked the way Ryou said “witnesses”. He shuddered at the thought of Atemu breaking his arm and pulled his limbs closer to his body.

“Well, not that I can remember? The kid I gave the money back to took off right after, so I guess we might have been alone,” Yuugi whispered back. Ryou's eyes widened and his lips parted slightly in understanding.

“Yuugi,” he whispered, “I don't think you have to worry about Atemu being angry. In fact, you're probably pretty safe around him at the moment.” Yuugi sighed in relief and popped the candy into his mouth, sucking the residue off his fingers.

“Really? Why's that? Not that I'm not eternally grateful to be able to avoid his wrath, but I don't understand how.” Ryou winked at him and settled back into his chair.

“I'll let you know when I have more proof. But for now, don't worry about Atemu. He's harmless.” Yuugi relaxed the slightest bit and dove back into his textbook. Ryou smiled to himself and silently pulled his phone from his pocket, surreptitiously sending a text to his older brother. He put the phone away quickly after and glanced at Yuugi who was still sneaking candy. The thoughts in his head were odd and unusual, but if he was right … Ryou grinned wide before hiding his face behind his textbook. If he was right, then maybe there was still hope for Atemu.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About Atemu's last name, I explained this on tumblr, but here's my reasoning again: “Pharaoh” actually means “great house” because it originally referred to the huge palace the kings lived in back in Ancient Egypt. SO what I did is, I looked up the Japanese word for “mansion” and it turned out to be “Goutei”, so Atemu’s name is basically “great house”. (It’s a pun, get it? Ha ha ha? Okay, I’m not funny, I know. But I really think it is. Made me laugh, at least.)


	3. Trouble In Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura is emotionally-constipated. Jounouchi neglects his homework. Yuugi thinks both Melvin and Bakura are quite terrifying, but not as hot as Atemu ... wait, he means terrifying, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, it's the third chapter. Yay. I'm totally not being sarcastic.
> 
> Warning: There is some mild(?) violence in this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy.

Once they were released for lunch, Bakura found his little brother. With a huff and a grimace, he stopped in front of him and glared. Shaking his cell phone in Ryou's face, Bakura showed him the message the younger one had sent.

“How the bloody hell should I know? It's not like the guy's an open book I can _peruse_ any time I bloody well please!”

“He's your best friend!” argued Ryou.

“He's my _only_ friend.”

“What about Melvin?”

“That's different,” said Bakura gruffly, “Melvin is a psycho with a knife collection.” Ryou rolled his eyes at his brother as Yuugi exited the classroom to join them. He paused beside Ryou and Bakura looked at him sharply. Yuugi stilled as the older teen raised an eyebrow at him before looking back to Ryou.

“Okay, what about Malik?” teased Ryou and Bakura immediately looked away, a small flush on his cheeks.

“Malik's not really a friend, Ryou,” he muttered, but Malik chose that exact moment to appear and butt into their conversation.

“Oh, _thanks,_ Bakura. I'll remember that,” he huffed and stalked off.

“No, wait, Malik!” Bakura made to race after the blonde, but stopped and pulled his brother to him by throwing an arm around his neck. He dug his knuckles into his brother's hair and proceeded to give him the worst noogie of his life.

“You'll pay for this, Ryou!” he threatened and shoved his brother aside, knocking him into Yuugi. The boys stumbled and Yuugi only barely managed to steady them. Bakura then ran off after Malik. Yuugi blinked in confusion.

“I'm confused. Are they … together?” he asked and Ryou laughed at the question, but quickly grimaced as he rubbed his sore head. Tugging Yuugi into motion, they began to make their way to the cafeteria with the rest of the student body.

“Actually, they're not. Would it weird you out if they were?” he asked tentatively. Yuugi only shrugged.

“No. I mean, it kinda looked like it with all the looks they kept sending each other yesterday at lunch. Well, your brother more so than Malik.” He sighed and tilted his head to the side in thought. “And I think my best friend may be in love with a guy … or something like that. And I will always love him no matter what. Not my business who people decide to date or love. I respect whatever sexuality people have.” Ryou gave him a magnificent smile as they arrived in the cafeteria and led him towards the line for food.

“You're a good guy, Yuugi,” he said, “I'm glad you're my friend now.”

Yuugi blushed to the roots of his hair and he laughed off his embarrassment.

“Thanks, but I'm just doing what I feel is right,” he said as he grabbed a tray.

“More than most, Yuugi.”

* * *

Yuugi arrived at the group's table just in time to see Melvin tug his exasperated brother into the seat next to him, away from the glaring Bakura. Thankfully, for Yuugi, Atemu was nowhere to be seen. Though Ryou had told him Atemu would not hurt him, Yuugi was still wary of the older teen. He was suddenly glad he did not have any classes with the guy, though that was because Yuugi suspected that Atemu was an upperclassman. Ryou sat next to Malik, so Yuugi took the space opposite to him next to Bakura and tucked his backpack underneath his seat. He looked up and around, face scrunching up when he did not find who he was looking for.

“Looking for Atemu?” asked Melvin slyly. Yuugi jumped at being directly spoken to by Melvin. Melvin had never uttered a word to him and suddenly the older teen was all creepy smiles. But Yuugi shook his head.

“Uh, no, I was looking for Jounouchi,” he said uncertainly.

“The blonde you were with yesterday?” Yuugi nodded and Melvin wrinkled his nose in what appeared to be disdain. “Pity,” was all he said and he returned to his meal. Yuugi grabbed hold of his own chopsticks and Malik spoke up.

“I don't know, Melvin, he seemed really nice, not like _other_ assholes I know,” he said, sniffing delicately and popped a mushroom into his mouth. Bakura growled next to Yuugi and the boy scooted away, alarmed at the sound. Why did Malik and Ryou have such scary older siblings? The younger brothers themselves were so normal in comparison. Yuugi did not understand it.

“For the last time, Malik, I didn't mean we weren't friends –”

“But you're _not_ friends,” interjected Melvin.

“Sod off, Melvin,” snarled Bakura.

“No. I'm looking out for my baby brother –”

“Shut up and butt out, Melvin,” Malik raised his voice above his brother's, staring pointedly at Bakura. Melvin fell suspiciously silent. “So what _did_ you mean, Bakura?” asked Malik and Bakura's mouth floundered for something to say as the entire table watched him. Melvin, especially, gazed at Bakura with sharp eyes and a tense jaw. Malik narrowed his eyes at the white-haired teen. “Well?” he prodded. But Bakura could only stare at Malik, at a loss for words. How exactly was he supposed to express what he felt for the boy when he did not really know it himself, and in front of so many people?

“I don't know, but not that I wasn't your friend!” he finally spat out and Malik grimaced at him.

When his best friend showed up right then, Yuugi was beyond grateful. It broke through the awkwardness and relieved the tension only slightly. Jounouchi paused at the table with his usual carefree grin on his face.

“Hey, Yuug'. Bakura … uh, Bakura. Ishtar … and, uh, Ishtar,” he greeted, nodding at each of them in turn. Malik sent a dazzling smile to Jounouchi and Yuugi swore he heard Bakura growl again; he moved further away. The tension returned, higher this time.

 _“Hey_ there, please call me Malik,” the teen purred at the blonde. In return, Jounouchi smiled charmingly at him and sat between Yuugi and Bakura since Yuugi had edged himself into the corner, away from the growling teen.

“I'm not sure if all of you heard yesterday, but I'm Jounouchi, Yuugi's best friend,” Jounouchi introduced himself.

“Not a _word,_ Bakura,” Ryou suddenly warned and Jounouchi glanced at the teen beside him in curiosity as he carefully slipped off his beige pack. Confused, he turned to Yuugi, but Yuugi could only shrug at him in answer. He did not have the vaguest idea of what was going on. “Also, call me Ryou or it'll get confusing,” Ryou added with a smile. Jounouchi nodded, letting his pack fall to the floor behind him.

“It's _really_ good to meet you, Jounouchi,” Malik smiled sweetly and Bakura slammed his chopsticks onto his tray, appetite gone. Melvin giggled maniacally, no doubt taking joy from the quarrel between his friend and little brother. Jounouchi cleared his throat awkwardly as he eyed the three uncertainly.

“It's, uh, great to meet Yuugi's new friends as well,” he said lamely.

“I hope your part of the paper is better than that, _dog.”_

Jounouchi suddenly tensed and whipped around to glare at a tall brunette with vivid, blue eyes. Yuugi frowned at the insult and looked behind him. Jounouchi scoffed.

“Go to hell, Kaiba. Just you wait, my part of the paper is going to drown you!”

“That doesn't even make sense, you stupid mutt,” said the extremely tall brunette. Yuugi suddenly realized who this teenager was.

“Oh, so _this_ is Seto Kaiba!” Kaiba turned his steely gaze onto him and Yuugi shrank in his seat. Jounouchi visibly flinched at Yuugi's comment and Kaiba turned to smirk coldly at him.

“Talk about me a lot, do you, mutt?”

“Fuck _off,_ Kaiba!” Jounouchi snapped.

Kaiba's smirk widened and he turned on his heel.

“You wish,” he said as he left, a dark chuckle trailing after him.

Jounouchi groaned and buried his face into his hands.

“What is he even doing in the cafeteria? Man, I really hate that guy. Thanks for _that,_ Yuugi.” Yuugi gave his friend an apologetic smile and Ryou waved his hand.

“Forget about it, Jounouchi,” he said brightly, “you can do whatever that conversation was about and show him up.” Jounouchi lightened up at the thought and Yuugi nodded.

“Yeah! I believe in you, Jounouchi. You'll have him eating your dust in this group project.” Jounouchi ruffled Yuugi's hair affectionately. Yuugi let him with a small smile and did not bother to fix it.

“Thanks, Yuug'... man, I should really get started on that paper though,” he said idly.

“Jounouchi!” Yuugi scolded, but the blonde laughed and scratched at his scalp sheepishly.

“It kind of just slipped me by,” Jounouchi said with an embarrassed shrug, “I'm gonna head to the library now and start before I forget again!” Jounouchi wolfed his food down at top speed before leaping out of his seat, taking up his bag, and discarding his tray. Then he was gone and Yuugi was shaking his head in amusement.

“He's so hopeless sometimes,” Yuugi said and sighed.

“I can see that,” Ryou laughed.

“I think it's endearing,” said Malik and Bakura glared at him, looking more sour by the second.

“Would you stop!” he snarled.

“Make me, fluffy!” Malik taunted him with a smirk. But by the way Bakura's eyes narrowed, the group could tell he had had enough.

“I'm _done,”_ he said with a tone of finality and stood.

“What?” Malik's smug smile was gone, replaced by something anxious. He watched as Bakura discarded his tray and stormed off, leaving Malik gaping.

“Wait!” Malik called after him, “Bakura! You were supposed to tell me I'm pretty and apologize, you ass! Bakura! _Bakura!”_ Malik hastily grabbed his school bag and rushed after him, leaving his own tray abandoned.

“Are they seriously at it again?” Yuugi grew cold as the smooth, deep voice settled over him like icy water on his skin. He felt more than saw Atemu sit beside him in Bakura's seat, settling a tray gently down in front of him.

“It's a vicious cycle that I can't seem to kill,” said Melvin scornfully.

“I swear, one of these days, we're just going to find them making out on the stairway,” said Atemu with an amused smirk. Melvin's face twisted in disgust and he visibly shuddered at the comment.

“Shut it or you'll put me off my lunch. Anyway, I'm still hoping I can eventually find a way to stop it. Or else I'll be forced to put an end to Bakura...” Melvin trailed off and eyed the lunch Atemu had begun to dig into, seemingly unsettled by it.

“Is that an actual school lunch?” voiced Ryou disbelievingly. His tone turned accusing, “What poor kid did you take it from?”

 _So Atemu_ _'_ _s still bullying kids_ _and taking their things_ _?_ Yuugi frowned to himself in disapproval.

“It's mine. I didn't take it from anyone,” said Atemu quietly.

“Yeah, right,” said Melvin, “since when do you actually use the lunch program your _darling_ _'rents_ pay for?”

“Since today,” said Atemu. Yuugi looked at him then. Atemu had his eyes glued to his plate, mouth working as he chewed, refusing to look at any of them. Yuugi could not help but let a small smile grace his lips. He was glad that Atemu had not bullied anyone out of their lunch. But that was if, Yuugi's smile vanished, and only _if_ Atemu was telling them the truth.

“Pfft, right,” Melvin snorted, “Next you're going to be telling me that you actually brought your wallet to school and you don't need to shake kids down for spare change.” At Atemu's silence, Melvin groaned. “I'm so disappointed in you, your highness. From one day to the next, you've been reduced from a doberman to a chihuahua. I'm ashamed to know you.” Melvin stood from his seat and added, “actually, scratch that last part. Even chihuahuas take on bigger things than themselves. You've become a kitten!” Melvin wiped away an imaginary tear. “Now toodle-oo. I have a brother to find,” he said and left. Ryou glanced at the abandoned trays and placed a defeated chin on his palm.

“Great, I'm stuck with cleanup again,” he muttered.

Yuugi gave him a sympathetic shrug.

“I'll help you clean up,” he said, “don't worry. I'll take one and you take the other.”

Ryou grinned at him and glanced quickly to Atemu before focusing on his new friend.

“Thanks, Yuugi! You really are the best.” Fixing his schoolbag onto his shoulders, Ryou stood and plucked both his own and Melvin's tray from the table.

“Well, I'm done eating,” he said quickly, “I gotta go do um, somethi – er, find Bakura and save him – from Melvin, so I'll see you in class, Yuugi!” And before Yuugi could object, Ryou darted away.

It was silent at the table, although around them, the cafeteria was in full chattering swing. Yuugi became twice as aware of Atemu sitting next to him and cleared his throat, poking at his empty yogurt cup with his chopsticks. He desperately wished for Jounouchi to return at that moment. Then he would not have to deal with the uncomfortable prickly feeling at the back of his neck. His fiddling paused when Atemu slowly slid his unopened yogurt towards him, tawny fingers hesitating midway before nudging Yuugi's tray with it. Yuugi stared, transfixed, as Atemu's digits retreated, curling into themselves at his own tray.

It was a gentle nudge. A ceasefire of sorts. Possibly an offering. Yuugi did not know what it was, but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Although, he did not really understand how that worked. Why would horses come bearing gifts? He took the cup and lifted his stare to Atemu who was concentrating on his own tray once more, his golden bangs hiding his eyes from view.

“Thanks,” he said softly and Atemu peeked at him through his bangs, a tiny tilt to his lips. It suddenly struck Yuugi how handsome Atemu actually was without his brooding, dark persona. The sharp slanted cheekbones, the full lips, that burning, violet-red gaze and deep, brown skin like the sunset on the Sahara. It all gave Yuugi uncomfortable shivers and an unexpected case of dry-mouth. His eyes widened upon realization. He looked away from Atemu's glorious figure then and took a deep steadying breath, but it was too late.

Yuugi was _interested._

 _Oh, no,_ Yuugi thought, _He's hot._

He did not realize he had spoken aloud until Atemu's gentle laugh reached his ears. Yuugi's usually creamy complexion turned pallid. In the next second, his face heated, a splotchy red spreading over his cheeks and Yuugi buried his steaming face into his hands.

“Did I really say that out loud?” he moaned, unwillingly glancing at Atemu.

Atemu was smiling at him. Yuugi's heart stuttered in his chest and he cleared his throat, desperately shoving his burgeoning feelings back down to where they came from. If he started making heart eyes at Atemu now, he would never forgive himself for developing a crush on a bully. Yuugi looked away from the amused smile and tender eyes, his feelings swishing at the bottom of his stomach. They were wrong, so wrong; Yuugi cursed himself silently.

“Did you want me to pretend I hadn't heard that?” Atemu asked him quietly and Yuugi turned to see his amusement changed somehow. His eyes had become softer and the red in them had dimmed. His smile was not as sharp, almost as if Atemu was not aware he was smiling at all. A surge of emotion whooshed up Yuugi's esophagus and got stuck somewhere in his throat and he tried his best to gulp it back down.

“Okay, but don't let it go to your head,” he said weakly, “I don't get crushes on _bullies.”_ Atemu's smile vanished and his eyes darted away from Yuugi's face, a brief glimmer of hurt echoing on his expression. Yuugi grabbed his book bag and pulled it on. He took up his tray along with Malik's and left. Something akin to guilt soured in his belly as he held the yogurt cup against his chest.

* * *

Hurrying through the empty hall on his way to class, Yuugi was passing the restroom when something large and hard violently shoved him into the door. Off balance and unable to brace himself, Yuugi struck his head. Gripping the side of his head with a whimper of pain, he braced himself for another hit. The only thought in his head was to make himself as small a target as possible and see if he lived through it. He was shoved inside the room and knocked against a urinal where he crouched, arms coming up to protect his head.

“Alright, geek, give me everything you got.”

Yuugi peered up, scared to see a large student with enormous eyebrows and wild dark brown hair. He instantly cast his gaze to the ground and lowered one arm to pull his wallet from his pocket, holding it out with a shaky hand. The giant laughed and snapped it up, pilfering the meager contents and throwing it back at Yuugi where it hit his cheek with a smack.

“Are you kidding me?” growled the guy, counting the money before shoving it into his pocket with a withering glower. “Fucking cheap-ass kid,” he grumbled before raising his voice. “It's twenty-five hundred yen a week to stay safe. Have it by tomorrow or I'll beat you black and blue like your uniform.” The teen sucked his teeth loudly in disappointment before leaving the bathroom, feet dragging.

For a long moment, Yuugi stayed where he was, crouched next to the urinal as he trembled. He breathed in sharply and buried his face into his knees, a familiar burning starting behind his eyes. He breathed deeply, trying to reign in his emotions. He could not show his face in class like this. Especially not when his class had his new friends in it. Yuugi would not be able to handle Ryou and Malik seeing him this weak and defenseless. So Yuugi gingerly picked up his wallet and stood, wiping escaped tears on the arm of his jacket. He tucked his wallet away and walked over to a sink.

Washing his hands, Yuugi glanced at himself in the mirror, sighing at the mess reflected back at him. There was blood leaking out of a small cut at his temple, from where his head had collided with the edge of the metal plate on the door. He took some paper towels and wiped the blood away.

After washing his face and straightening his uniform, Yuugi left the boys' restroom, only to bump right into another person. Yuugi bounced off the other's hard chest and braced himself on the wall in surprise. When he raised his eyes to Atemu's, he could only blink in shock. Atemu was the last person on earth Yuugi had been expecting to bump into (literally). The last person he had _wanted_ to bump into. With a dull ache in his chest, Yuugi figured it was just his luck.

Caught off guard, Yuugi searched for something to say. He did not want to be there. He did not want Atemu to see his weaknesses. Not when he had just realized he was developing a crush on the guy. He focused on the ground between them, words failing him. He let out a small yelp of surprise when Atemu's hand forced his chin up, widened sangria-colored eyes scanning his face.

“Yuug – Mutou,” he said stammered suddenly, shock clear in his voice, “who did this to you?”

Yuugi winced in Atemu's grip and pried his fingers loose, moving his head away from those grasping fingers.

“I fell and hit myself on the door,” Yuugi whispered, voice defeated, “It was an accident.” Atemu's jaw visibly clenched and glared at him. Yuugi fought the instinct to cower at the sight of those harsh eyes.

“You... _fell,”_ Atemu deadpanned. His eyes narrowed at him, disbelieving and sharp.

Yuugi nodded, wondering what the chances were that he could successfully run away from the situation. Away from Atemu and his piercing and deducing gaze. Yuugi wanted to disappear straight into the ground. And though Yuugi had ample space to move, he felt trapped. Cornered. And even with his imminent dilemma, it seemed strange to Yuugi to note that Atemu was not as tall as he had previously thought. Of course, everyone was tall to Yuugi, but he had presumed Atemu to be much taller still.

He was sure that the last time they had stood toe to toe, the teen had been much taller. But now, Yuugi was amazed to find that Atemu was _not_ actually a giant that stretched to the very heavens where he could pluck down the stars at will. Not at all. Something had changed, Yuugi realized; he was looking at Atemu differently and he suspected it had to do with his new feelings for the teen. Atemu was probably only a head taller than him. Around the same height as Bakura. Maybe, if Yuugi really tried and went up on the very tips of his toes (and maybe hopped a little), he could even be at eye-level with the other teen.

With a whoosh, most of the fear left Yuugi, leaving him with a lighter feeling. One that settled low in his belly and warmed him. Yuugi let out a breath he had not known he had been holding and Atemu's harsh stare evaporated on the spot. The teen sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling a folded handkerchief from it. He shook it open and reached up towards Yuugi's face with a neutral expression in place. Much to their mutual surprise, Yuugi did not flinch away from Atemu's hand.

“You're still bleeding a little,” Atemu murmured softly as he dabbed gently at Yuugi's brow. Yuugi noticed Atemu searching his face, maybe for a clue to what really happened. It was obvious to Yuugi that Atemu had not believed his story.

“You should be more careful next time, Mutou.”

Atemu took Yuugi's hand and placed the handkerchief into his palm. Yuugi made to hand the cloth back, but Atemu stepped away towards the boys' restroom and paused.

“You're late for class, little one. I suggest you hurry,” he said before pushing the door open and entering the bathroom, leaving Yuugi with his hand hanging in the air. It was not long before the words registered in Yuugi's head and he yelped, rushing down the hall and towards his classroom. His mind echoed with Atemu's words.

_“...little one.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2,500 yen is roughly twenty bucks. 
> 
> Kaiba made his debut. _Ugh,_ Kaiba.


	4. Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atemu takes matters into his own hands, literally. Yuugi feels as though he is in the dark when it comes to his new friends and he struggles with his newfound feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look it's an update. Enjoy!
> 
>  **Warning:** Violence (in the beginning) and an edited* scene with sexual tones (after Yuugi's shower scene) in this chapter. 
> 
> [*scene was edited to exclude the oral sex bc the author felt uncomfortable with it]

Atemu was washing his hands, when a surge of rage wracked through his body. He looked up into the mirror, his normally tame eyes shined a bleeding red. Clenching his fists, he pulled one back and prepared to strike the mirror. But before he could, a thought entered his head, causing him to pause and stare at his reflection. Slowly, he lowered his hand and a small smirk formed at the edge of his lips.

 _That's right..._ he thought, _I almost forgot who I am._ He turned the faucet off and dried his hands, smirk growing smug and transforming his handsome face into something dark and _familiar._

Atemu pulled his cell phone from his pocket, slowly forming a text. After he sent it, he slid the phone back into his pocket and left the restroom, leisurely making his way towards the gym. Hopefully, he would not be directed back to his classroom. He _did_ have things to do after all and no time or patience for monotonous lectures.

By some stroke of luck, Atemu safely made it to the gym. There was no one in the building that he could see, but Atemu knew better than that. He directed himself towards the locker rooms and listened, but there was no sound. Frowning, he left the gymnasium and rounded the building. He paused when he heard muffled laughter. He closed in on the voices, taking care to keep his footsteps silent. A victorious smile crept across his lips. He had known he would find them somewhere here. Now he could start his inquiries and find the answers he knew the group always had.

“So how much was it?” came a voice.

Atemu abruptly halted. He peered around the corner and spied four students. All had a yellow armbands, as hall monitors were supposed to wear. The largest of the group shrugged at the question.

“Just a couple hundred yen. Damn pipsqueak was so broke I almost felt bad taking his money,” he said gruffly. Atemu's eyes narrowed. It looked like he would not have to investigate any further because he had just found his target.

“Ha,” one scoffed, “least it's something. The idiot I cornered didn't have a cent!”

Atemu closed his eyes in annoyance. He breathed deeply before opening them again. _Two possible targets._

“Looks like we're the only ones who got lucky,” a third said and Atemu frowned further. _Four targets._ “But then again, we have the same customers. Maybe you guys should stick to your regulars.” _Two targets?_

Atemu heard the strike of a match and he made a pinched face of disgust at the scent of cigarette that floated over to him. He did not want that stench caught in his hair. He leaned against the building and crossed his arms, waiting. Closing his eyes once again, he figured the four would divulge more. If they did not, he would have to join them and use his own brand of persuasion to get his answers.

“The brat I used to shake down ran off to another school. But don't worry,” said the largest, “I plan to make a weekly withdrawal from this pipsqueak. He might have been short on cash today, but I'm sure he'll muster up all he has when I pay him another visit tomorrow.”

“And how do you know this kid won't have anyone to back him up?”

 _“Please,_ he's new” – eyes snapping open, Atemu straightened; _that_ was the guy – “what friends could he possibly have?”

He knew who this hall monitor was.

* * *

Yuugi was standing by his locker and pulling on his street shoes when Ryou joined him. His best friend, Jounouchi, had rushed on home minutes before with an apology as he had a report to focus on. He had been in such a rush, that he had not even noticed Yuugi's shiny new bruise.

“Hey, think you could join us today?” Ryou asked cheerfully. The shorter teen blinked at him and hesitated as he finished tying off his sneakers. A vision of Atemu gently wiping the blood from his temple came to Yuugi's mind and his traitorous heart skipped a beat. He drew in a breath that got stuck in his throat at the thought of hanging out with Atemu outside school.

He imagined them strolling down a sidewalk, Atemu with his hands stuffed into his pockets, walking slowly so Yuugi's short legs could keep up with his longer stride. He could see Atemu smiling down at him as Yuugi talked, the same smile Yuugi had received during lunch. A blush tinged Yuugi's cheeks. He wanted to go. He really did. But he could not encourage this crush.

“Uh, will Atemu be coming?”

“Atemu won't be joining us today,” came Bakura's disgruntled voice from over Yuugi's shoulder. Startled by the sudden voice, Yuugi jumped and Bakura stepped up beside him. The teen had the noise of a thief in the night, as in, he did not make any. “He texted me earlier,” Bakura explained to the confused expression on his younger brother's face.

Ryou frowned, but did not ask. Yuugi, on the other hand, ached to know what it was that would keep the red-haired teen away.

“Oh,” he said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

Startled once more, Yuugi whirled around in fright to see Malik, arms crossed, expression dark as he jerked his chin. He looked in the direction Malik indicated to see Atemu's familiar red and gold hair. Atemu stood, back to them with Melvin, a scratched-up metal bat in hand. He was steadily tapping the bat to his shoulder; Yuugi could not hear them and he could not see Atemu's face. Yuugi frowned to himself in bewilderment. Somehow, he had not thought Atemu was the type of guy to play sports. Though, Yuugi now understood why the teen would not be joining them. What was strange, however, was Melvin. The teen looked distraught. Ryou gasped and Bakura uttered a small curse at the sound. Looking to them, Yuugi felt puzzled by their reactions.

“Bakura!” Ryou glared at his brother and Bakura visibly braced himself.

“What?”

“What do you mean 'what'!”

“Well, what! Does it look like I'm his bloody keeper? Let it go.” Bakura huffed and crossed his arms just as Melvin came over, looking put out. Yuugi was confused, certain he was missing something.

“Pharaoh took my bat, Florence.” Melvin said sadly. Bakura sighed and reached out to awkwardly pat Melvin on the shoulder. He then pulled a beanie from his pocket and handed it over to Melvin who grimaced at it before pulling it on. The odd part, though, was that Melvin tucked all his hair but his bangs underneath it. Again, Yuugi thought he was missing something.

“Also, don't call me that,” Bakura said and turned towards the doors. “Let's go.”

Melvin trailed behind him like a sad puppy and Malik came to stand next to Yuugi, his warm ochre face troubled. He eyed Yuugi's forehead where a bruise was already forming and sighed.

“Yuugi, tell us the truth. Was that really an accident?”

Yuugi's stomach roiled in guilt and he nodded, adjusting his backpack without meeting Malik's eyes. Ryou placed a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“Malik and I are here for you, should you suddenly remember what caused you to fall. Right, Malik?” The blonde nodded his head sincerely and smiled gently at him. It was the softest look Yuugi had ever seen on the other's face. Yuugi wanted to hug them both when a wave of tenderness washed over him.

“Thank you, Ryou. Malik,” he whispered, more grateful for their friendship than ever.

* * *

“Ah, I was hoping to find you here, Ushio.” The delighted deep voice echoed in the locker room. Ushio raised his head from his locker. He looked around for the source of the sound, large eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His club mates had already gone on home. He was the last one as was his custom. Ushio pulled on his shirt and buttoned it as he stepped away from the open locker.

“Who's there?” he called, annoyed that he could not see the source of the voice.

“Guess,” it replied, amusement smothering its words. Ushio heard footsteps then, accompanied by a long scraping sound. The image of an ax dragging along the ground came to mind and Ushio shuddered. He glanced from side to side to pinpoint the direction of the noises, but the echoes in the room confused him even more.

“Just tell me!” he grabbed his jacket roughly and shoved it into his backpack before zipping it closed. Slamming his locker shut, Ushio glanced around warily, trying to keep both ends of the aisle within his line of sight.

“It's not fun if you don't guess,” said the voice, “but I suppose I might as well get right down to business.”

Ushio turned just in time to see Atemu rounding a corner. He breathed a sigh of relief. He shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder and raised his chin in greeting.

“Oh, Atemu! It's just you.” He chuckled nervously when Atemu lifted a bat from where he had been dragging it, placing it at his shoulder. Ushio gripped the strap on his backpack tighter. “What, uh, business did you have with me? You know I didn't have anything to do with Suzuki! I told him not to mess with Bakura's little brother. Idiot didn't listen and kept going on about how freaky the kid is.”

“Oh, don't worry about Suzuki,” Atemu said lightly, bat tapping his shoulder.

Ushio felt dread pool into his veins. He clenched his teeth and hefted his backpack higher onto his shoulder. Atemu was much shorter than him. He could easily overpower the teen if it came down to a fight.

“What's with the bat?” he asked cautiously.

Atemu took the bat into both hands, spreading his legs as he got into a batting position. He pointed the bat at Ushio and pulled it back. He swung the bat experimentally, calculatingly slow.

“Thought I'd try out for baseball,” said Atemu idly as he swung again, keeping his swing graceful and precise. A smirk pulled at his face severely and Ushio took an unconscious step back. “Seems like it would be fun,” Atemu said as he swung a third time. Ushio visibly tensed and Atemu chuckled. His body became rigid then and he swung one last time, hard. The bat flew from his hands and Ushio did not have time to dodge. The bat struck his cheek and Ushio cried out, backpack dropping to the floor as he stumbled back, hands coming up to cradle his face as he doubled over in pain. The bat clattered to the floor and Atemu swiftly picked it up, laughing.

“Maybe not. Such a bad swing, wasn't it?” Atemu brought the bat down on Ushio's back and the other fell to the floor with a grunt.

“Needs work, I think,” Atemu hissed as he swung.

“You rat bastard!” Ushio yelled, arm coming up to defend himself.

“Practice makes perfect!” Atemu landed a blow on Ushio's arm and grinned at the snapping sound it made. Ushio screamed and Atemu kicked him in the stomach as hard as he could, winding him to effectively cut his cry off.

“I don't know Ushio, I think I'm getting better! I can hear my fans screaming!” Atemu kicked him again before bringing the bat back down several more times.

He paused when Ushio began to cry.

“Do you know why I did this, Ushio?” asked Atemu calmly, smile stretching his lips thin. Ushio only continued to blubber and Atemu prodded his broken arm, earning another pained sob. “Listen closely,” he reprimanded with another stab to the broken arm, “You paying attention?” He pressed down on the broken limb with the end of the bat and Ushio whimpered with a broken gasp before nodding. “Good. I did this because today, you took a couple hundred yen off a small boy named Yuugi,” he continued placidly, still smiling as he shrugged his shoulders, working out the kinks and he cracked his neck, “You know him as 'the new kid' or 'pipsqueak'. You hurt him and took his money. And that, in my book” – Atemu raised his weapon, his happy demeanor slipped away and his face contorted in pure rage as he growled – “is _unforgivable.”_

* * *

Sighing, Yuugi collapsed into the chair at his desk. He was finally home. He shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor with his bag. He then slumped onto his desk, laying his head on his arm tiredly and sighed again. Bakura had taken a large interest in him during their outing. At the rowdy, unfamiliar cafe that Bakura had insisted they go to, he had garnered Yuugi's attention and stopped him from leaving for hours! It had not helped that Bakura and Malik had not resolved their issues. With all the attention Bakura had given him, Malik had only grown more annoyed and volatile, though he had only lashed out at Bakura.

Yuugi did not know what had caused Bakura to take such an interest in him, but he thanked every god he knew when he had finally stopped. Yuugi frowned. It had actually been when Bakura had received a text that he had stopped vying for his attention and finally let him go free. Yuugi felt slightly used now that he thought about it. There was something that Bakura had been doing. Yuugi did not know what it had been, but he supposed it did not matter now that it was over.

Yuugi turned his head to get more comfortable and his bruise throbbed in protest. Sighing, he mustered up the strength to stand then and gathered his pajama from his bed into his arms. He ventured into the bathroom and frowned at the bruise that was beginning to consume his face. It was no wonder his grandfather and mother had given him the third degree when he had arrived. But with years of practice, Yuugi had dodged their questions and avoided another call to school.

He groaned. The boy that had done this to him was definitely expecting him to bring the money specified the next day. Yuugi wondered if he could somehow skip school for the rest of his life so that he never had to see that guy again. Snorting at his ridiculous thought, he placed the pajamas at the edge of the counter and began to empty his pockets.

Out came candy, playing cards, his wallet, and the handkerchief. Yuugi stared at the wrinkled cloth, heart warming at the memory of Atemu.

 _Do I have to give it back?_ wondered Yuugi. He fingered the gold thread that bordered the edges and sighed unhappily at the blood staining the soft, champagne-colored linen. _Will he still want it back even though it's ruined?_ he silently asked. Yuugi turned the linen over in his hands, running his fingers over the cool fabric reverently. He paused when his fingers encountered a design in the corner. No, not a design. Yuugi spread the material to view it, only to find it was Atemu's name. Seeing it brought back the memory from earlier.

_“...little one.”_

Yuugi's heart thudded loudly in his chest and a blush spread like wildfire across his face. Embarrassed, Yuugi covered his face with his hands, breathing in the gentle earthy scent of the handkerchief.

It smelled wonderful to Yuugi. He breathed it in deeply, sighing happily until he realized exactly what he was doing. He was _sniffing_ Atemu's handkerchief. Mortified by his actions, Yuugi grabbed his bar of soap from the shower and opened the faucet at the sink. He dared to allow himself one last whiff of the scent before drowning the fabric in the water. He scrubbed at the blood, taking care not to harm the fabric. He felt conflicted; he liked Atemu and it bothered him. He should not like Atemu. The guy was a terror to other kids and had apparently set someone on fire! There was no way the guy was safe or _sane_ for that matter!

Yuugi continued to mentally berate himself, rinsing the cloth and wringing it. He hung it on the towel rack to dry and proceeded to undress. He then jumped into the shower before he did another stupid thing, like checking to see if the piece of cloth still smelled amazing.

As he showered, Yuugi wondered if the smell was Atemu's laundry detergent. If it was, Yuugi was going to have to get the product name off the guy somehow. He wanted that laundry detergent. Atemu was so selfish, hogging that incredible scent all to himself. Anyone who did not know of Atemu's laundry detergent had been cheated.

Yuugi thumped his forehead against the tiles with a groan. He was being ridiculous.

 _It's probably not even laundry detergent,_ Yuugi bemoaned internally, _it's probably that jerk's own … personal … scent._  He stilled, eyes widening. _What if it_ is _his scent?_ He bit his lip. _What if Atemu actually smells like that all the time?_ Yuugi looked at the shampoo bottle in his hand. He opened it and poured some onto his palm. _What if Atemu just leaves his scent on everything that touches him?_ The underlying pink in Yuugi's cheeks grew and he suddenly felt too warm. _Would I have to make him roll in my clothes to make them smell like that?_ The image of Atemu rubbing Yuugi's clothes over his naked torso was too much for Yuugi.

 _Oh, my god,_ he thought with alarm before using his unoccupied palm to turn off the hot water and letting the cold rake over his heated skin. He hissed and yelped at the cold, trying to erase the thought of Atemu's naked _anything_ from his mind by scrubbing the shampoo into his hair with a vengeance. He willfully ignored the curious jerk between his legs. Hormones or not, Yuugi would not be getting off tonight.

* * *

The room was dark as Atemu kissed the neck underneath him, skin white like bleached sand. The only light came from the moon that filtered in from the parted curtains. He nibbled on the skin. A content hum reverberated in his throat when a shudder ran through the body underneath him. Goosebumps spread across the skin and Atemu kissed it again before running a long lick up and over the trembling chin. He paused at the parted pink lips, studying the stunning vision laid before him. Yuugi's gorgeous eyes were squeezed shut, his cheeks flushed, lips silently mouthing “oh, god.” A tender smile spread across Atemu's lips and he leaned down to take those praises for himself. He kissed the boy languidly. There was no hurry. The night was not going anywhere. He had all the time in the world with Yuugi.

He nipped at Yuugi's lips and the boy gasped. Atemu pressed his hungry lips to the corner of that sweet mouth, branding a trail as he moved down, lips seeking all the milky skin they could touch. Atemu was starving for Yuugi. His chest ached and his mouth was as dry as a desert. He ran reverent hands up Yuugi's arms, burning with a need to touch the other boy. Atemu licked his way to a hardened nipple and Yuugi mewled loudly, spurring him on, shivering hands clenching the red sheets beneath him.

Atemu sucked on the nub, directing one hand to the other. He squeezed it between his fingers, earning himself another moan. Atemu was panting, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest.

_Yuugi, Yuugi, Yuugi..._

Like a man possessed, Atemu moaned Yuugi's name like a mantra. He kissed, sucked, and bit at Yuugi's body, obsessed with the sounds coming out of the other's mouth, doing anything and everything to elicit more. He needed more. He lowered himself down Yuugi's body, dragging his tongue along his skin.

“Atemu,” Yuugi whimpered, and Atemu smirked. “Atemu, wait,” Yuugi pleaded and Atemu raised his head in question. Yuugi's plum-colored eyes were open, looking at him in fear.

“Yuugi...” Atemu whispered and crawled back up to him in worry. “What is it?” Yuugi turned his gaze away and Atemu frowned. “Speak to me, my love.”

“...I'm not ready for this,” Yuugi whispered, “I can't do this.”

He looked at Atemu then, but didn't meet his gaze. His eyes were shining with tears and Atemu raised a hand to wipe them away. Yuugi flinched and Atemu stopped dead.

“Yuugi?”

“...get off of me.” Yuugi murmured. Atemu hesitated.

“What?” Yuugi met his eyes then, hate and disgust etched in every line of his delicate face.

_“Get off of me, you monster!”_

Atemu sat up with a start, the silk sheets pooling around his navel. He was alone in the spacious room. Alone in his grand bed.He breathed out heavily, hunching forward in relief. It had just been a dream. Atemu ran his hands roughly over his face, fingers entwining in his messy hair, yanking on the strands before letting them fall back into his lap. He stared at the foot of the bed, eyes unfocused.

 _Don't think about it,_ he thought groggily to himself, _you'll only be hurting yourself._

Glancing at the digital alarm clock, Atemu read the blue, glowing numbers and groaned.

He only had five minutes before he had to get up.

“Fuck it.” Atemu jerked his arm onto the alarm and flipped the switch so it would not go off. He then buried himself back into his silk sheets and fell right back to sleep.

* * *

“...Goutei.” Atemu groaned, burying his face further into the pillow. The comfort of it dragging him back under –

“Master Goutei, please.” The gentle female voice pleaded and Atemu shoved his face under the pillow, bracing his arms over it, determined to go back to sleep.

“Master Goutei, you'll be late. Please get up. You won't have any time for breakfast –”

“Fuck. Off,” Atemu growled, irritated at the voice.

“P-please, Master Goutei –”

“I said _fuck off!”_ Atemu sat up, launching the pillow at the voice.

The maid yelped and ran from the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Atemu blinked, his handsome face pulled into a scowl, one eye closed. The room was too bright. He glanced around and sighed when he noticed the maid had pulled open the heavy wine-colored curtains. She must have been new. The other maids knew better than to open his curtains.

“Well, I'm fucking awake _now!”_ he yelled to the closed door. He tried to push himself forward only to fall directly onto his face. Frustrated with his lack of coordination, he did not bother moving from his new position. Instead, he relaxed and closed his eyes, ass in the air and not caring. He was going to go back to sleep until his limbs realized what they were for and functioned correctly.

Atemu heard the door open and he sighed.

“You can fuck off again, I'm going back to sleep.”

“I'm your mother, not your maid.”

Atemu rolled onto his side and opened his eyes, trying his best to look guilty.

“Sorry, mom,” he mumbled, “Morning. You staying for breakfast today –”

The woman at the door with his similar brown skin tone cut him off with a pleasant smile and a glance at her watch, short auburn hair bobbing across her vision.

“You're going to be late for school. I'm leaving. I'll see you when I get home.” She waved sweetly and sauntered off before he could even say another word. Atemu yanked the sheets back over himself and closed his eyes.

“Love you too,” he muttered bitterly to himself, a dull ache in his chest.

“Master Goutei, your cousins have arrived.” The maid was back. Atemu rolled his eyes. She really was new. The seasoned maids knew well enough not to bother him with such trivialities.

“Right. I'll be down soon. You can go now.” The door closed and Atemu pulled the sheets from his face. He rubbed at his eyes, trying his best to chase the drowsiness away. And with a great effort, rolled out of bed and onto his feet, steadying himself with a bookshelf. He meandered to the far side of the room and lit the small candle under the bowl of myrrh-scented oil on his ebony vanity. He peered into the mirror and frowned at his rumpled and bushed appearance. His hair was in disarray and three times its usual size. He had shadows under his eyes and one of his eyelids had trouble staying open.

“Very sexy,” he muttered petulantly before turning and shuffling to his bathroom, his feet dragging through the cream-colored, wool carpet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 0, anyone?


	5. Bakura's Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malik and Bakura have issues, and Bakura takes a few trips down Memory Lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy.

When Atemu appeared at the top of the stairs an hour later, Melvin and Malik were close to leaving without him.

“About time, your highness.”

For that comment alone, Atemu slowed his steps as he descended the wide staircase to the foyer. Lined next to the end of the banister were two maids, one with a platter of varying fruits, the other with a leather satchel of schoolbooks. His abundant lack of an effort to hurry earned him an annoyed grunt from Melvin who waited, tapping his foot impatiently at the bottom with a disinterested Malik.

“Always a pleasure,” Atemu snarked right back at him once he had reached them, eliciting a roll of eyes from both brothers. With a showy yawn, Atemu pretended their blatant disrespect did not bother him.

“We ate your breakfast since you were taking so long,” said Melvin with a smirk. Scoffing, Malik turned incredulous eyes onto his older brother.

“Actually, _you_ ate everything and only tossed me some toast, you ass.” Melvin shrugged and Atemu turned his head as the maid with the tray of food approached him. She bowed as she offered the tray and Atemu plucked three oranges before waving her towards Malik with an indifferent motion of his brown hand. Malik gave him a wide grin and grabbed an orange and a banana before thanking the maid. She retreated quietly. The other maid halfheartedly started for Atemu, books in her hands and Atemu shook his hand at her. She retreated with a barely-contained sigh; Atemu never took his books.

Atemu tucked two of his oranges into his pockets and kept the last in his hand, testing its weight.

“So,” he said and looked at his cousins, a bored expression on his face, “did you wanna walk or take the car?”

“Let's take the car. If I'm late again, I'm gonna get detention,” Malik said, fingering a gold bracelet. He moved it to lay a certain way on his wrist before letting his sleeve fall back into place over it.

Melvin shrugged and Atemu walked with them to the front where his driver waited.

* * *

The three arrived at school just in time for Malik to see Bakura leading a sleepy Ryou ahead of him past the entrance gates. He quickly escaped the car with a vague excuse to Melvin and followed after the two brothers. Rapidly changing into his school shoes, he caught up, in almost no time, to Touzoku Bakura.

“Bakura!”

The teen halted in his tracks and turned. The younger brother, Ryou, glanced back at him in confusion, eyes blinking lazily. He glanced from Malik to his disgruntled brother and a sudden look of comprehension overcame his sleepy expression. With a bite to the corner of his lip, he quickly snuck away to his class to give them privacy.

At seeing Malik, Bakura curled his lip in a sneer and continued walking. He noted with mounting discontent, that his little brother had run off and abandoned him in Malik's clutches. Tucking his hands into his pockets, Bakura clenched them tightly into fists.

“Will you just talk to me!” Malik stopped in front of him and Bakura sidestepped the blonde without a word. He averted his eyes and did not even spare Malik a glance. “Bakura!”

Rebuffed, Malik watched the older boy walk away, his heart sinking, eyes stinging. Something sour clenched in his gut and he took a large breath.

“Well who the frig needs you anyway!” Malik yelled.

The day before, Bakura had pursued Yuugi nonstop. He had leaned in close, spoken softly, and even laughed at a particularly lame joke Yuugi had made. His actions had irked Malik more than he cared to admit. Bakura was not one to make fluttery eyes at anyone. He was much less the type to be sweet and kind. But the previous day with Yuugi had somehow brought all of that out of the harsh teen. It had been an act; Malik knew that. Yet with the smiles Bakura had given, it had not seemed that way. To see him smiling like that at someone else, it had hurt badly and wounded him deeply. After Yuugi had left, Malik had questioned his motives, but Bakura had replied with pure scorn.

_“Why the fuck is that any of your business?”_  Bakura had snapped at him, _“Whatever or whoever I choose to do has nothing to do with you. Stop acting like a jealous boyfriend when all you do is go after every guy you meet like a bitch in heat –”_

In a fit of rage and humiliation, Malik had stood up and proceeded to dump his untouched milkshake on Bakura's head. Melvin had laughed. Ryou had stared at them in shock. But Bakura had sat there in the suddenly quiet cafe and stared at him with absolute contempt.

_“You're bloody pathetic, Malik,”_  Bakura had said, and though his voice had been quiet and filled with sick glee, it had felt like a deafening shout, _“I don't understand how anyone could want such a needy, clingy, and self-centered little_ fool _like yourself. Grow up and don't ever come crying to me again. I'm_ done. _See you at home, Ryou.”_

Bakura had grabbed his jacket then with a finesse of not giving a single fuck and left the cafe, ignoring the waitresses that had hurried over with napkins. And Malik had stood there, feeling like he was the one with milkshake dripping down his cheeks.

Melvin, in an unusual act of kindness, had pulled him back down to his seat and wiped his tears away with a dirty napkin while Ryou had moved to sit at his side and rubbed his back comfortingly.

“Are you okay, Malik?”

Malik jerked at the question and quickly blinked away the tears, smiling at a concerned Yuugi. So absorbed in his thoughts as he had been, he had not heard the boy come up beside him.

“Oh, of course I'm fine!” Malik easily brushed off the concern and Yuugi's brow creased. Malik noted that his bruise looked worse than yesterday.

Yuugi caught him staring and cast his gaze to the floor.

“I lied about falling,” he admitted quietly.

Malik stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. Concern filled his features.

“What happened, Yuugi?” he asked gently, Bakura momentarily forgotten.

“Someone shoved me and I hit myself on the metal plate thing that's on the door to the restroom,” he said, voice small, “he took my money and told me to bring more today.” Yuugi hugged himself and Malik felt anger begin to simmer in his belly.

“Who was it?” he asked as levelly as he could. But Yuugi could only shrug.

“I don't know. He was really big and had big eyebrows. That's all I can remember. I didn't want to look at him too closely...”

Malik stomped his foot on the ground and cursed, surprising Yuugi. With a flinch, the boy took a quick step back and Malik growled.

“You point him out to me and I'll get Melvin to kick his ass so _hard –”_

“No!” Yuugi shook his head emphatically. “Violence doesn't solve anything!” He ran nervous hands through his yellow bangs and his face fell. “I just … can you and Ryou just stick close by so he can't come after me again? Please?”

Malik's forehead scrunched and he hugged Yuugi tightly.

“Don't worry, Yuugi. We'll always be with you. That jerk won't dare come after you if we're around.”

Yuugi gave him a watery smile and Malik felt his heart lift from the dumps it previously rested in. He let go of the shorter boy and stepped back to look at him, his lips twisting in discontent at the wound.

“Did you at least report it?” he asked, but Yuugi shook his head.

“Right, it'd probably just make him really mad.”

Malik understood. The first time he had reported someone for picking on him had been the last. The kids had not taken kindly to it and had beat him up. That had also been the first time Melvin had been suspended; the first time the Ishtar brothers had met Bakura as well. With the reminder of Bakura, Malik felt his stomach clench and his heart ache even more.

“Um,” Yuugi's gentle voice brought Malik back from his thoughts. “Have you seen Atemu?”

Malik finally noticed the neatly-folded, champagne-colored fabric in his hands.

“What's that?”

Yuugi blushed at the question, causing Malik's eyebrows to rise in amazement.

“You're blushing,” he pointed out.

Yuugi's blush only spread at the comment and he quickly tucked the folded square away.

“You know what? We should get to class.” Yuugi took Malik's hand and dragged him along, effectively bringing an end to the topic.

* * *

Bakura sat on the bleachers and sighed as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He unlocked it and flicked through to his messages. He read his newest one.

 

**From _Pharaoh_ : **

**Are you seriously going to make me  
** **sit through this horrendous class by**  
 **myself?**

 

He closed the message and his phone vibrated with a new one. He viewed it.

 

**From _Pharaoh_ :**

**Don't you fucking ignore me.**

 

He closed the message and his phone vibrated once more.

 

**From _Pharaoh_ :**

**I will find you and I will drag your  
sorry ass to hell with me, goddammit.**

 

Bakura typed out a quick reply.

 

**To _Pharaoh_ :**

**alredy in hell n savin u a seet**

 

As expected, Atemu did not reply. Bakura turned the screen off and tucked the phone away. Bracing his elbows against his knees, he let his head hang with a sigh.

_“You're bloody pathetic, Malik...”_

Bakura covered his face with his hands.

_“..._ _all you do is go after every guy you meet like a bitch in heat –”_

His head sunk lower, fingers sinking into his white hair.

_“...don't ever come crying to me again.”_

Bakura's hands clenched in his hair. He breathed deeply before letting go. Malik's face came to his mind, shocked, angry, and pained. Bakura laid himself across the bleachers and rubbed his chest where his heart squeezed painfully.

“I'm being bloody ridiculous,” he hissed to himself, angrily pulling his phone out again and thumbing through it inattentively.

He found himself going through his photos. He did not have many. Most taken by his little brother; pictures of scenery and many pictures of sunsets behind buildings. Some were taken by him when he had caught his friends in embarrassing situations. There was one of Atemu trying to shove an entire burger into his mouth. Another of him trying to do it again, only this time with a hot dog. There was one of Melvin reading a Dr. Seuss book with rapt attention, sitting on a rather tiny stool in the Kid's Corner of the public library. He paused at the last one and frowned. It was a picture of himself and Malik. In it he was gaping in horror, a glittery, bejeweled, plastic tiara sitting on his head. Next to him was Malik, arm around his neck. They were cheek to cheek and Malik was smiling beautifully.

 

_“Hey, Bakura!” Bakura looked up from the_ sunglasses display to see Malik wearing about a dozen different plastic, beaded necklaces in gold. He let out a loud snort and Malik grinned, placing his hands at his hips and lifting his head cockily.

“Pretty sexy, eh?”

Bakura covered his face with a hand and let out a booming laugh, causing a couple of shoppers to turn and give him annoyed glares. Not that Bakura noticed them; he only had eyes for Malik.

“Ishtar, you look ridiculous. Gaudy, plastic jewelry doesn't suit you.”

Malik winked at him and pulled off the fake jewelry, tossing it back into the pile next to the princess crowns. He hesitated.

“Don't even think about it. I'll leave your embarrassing ass behind.”

Malik nonchalantly pulled his phone from his pocket, thumbing through it and seemingly bored now. Bakura huffed, glancing around for Melvin. They were in the mall. The older brother had told him he would not be long, but it had been half an hour already and Bakura wanted to go home and check on his little brother. He glanced back at his charge and suddenly Malik snatched a tiara and raced over, slamming the bejeweled crown on Bakura's head before wrapping an arm around his neck.

Caught by surprise, Bakura did not even notice Malik taking a picture until the shutter went off. And just as fast as he had come, Malik had gone, leaving Bakura strangely cold.

“Dammit, Ishtar! I'm never letting Melvin convince me of babysitting you ever again!”

Bakura ripped the plastic atrocity from his head and tossed it aside. He made to attack the blonde for daring to do such a thing, but was again caught off guard by Malik's delighted smile.

“This is so becoming my background!”

_And the spell was gone._

_“Ishtar, you give me that fucking phone right fuckin' now!”_

 

After chasing him throughout the store and consequentially getting kicked out, Bakura had succeeded in deleting the photo, but not before Malik sent it to every person in his contacts and every single one of his social media accounts, which he later found out by complete chance. He never mentioned that he knew what Malik had done. Instead, he had saved the photo to his phone and never let anyone borrow it ever again for fear of it being discovered. The phone dimmed and Bakura shut it off. He put it back in his pocket and tugged at the necklace around his neck, fingering the small gold pendant almost unconsciously.

 

_A couple of girls screamed as they_ were suddenly drenched in cold water. Bakura ducked as they looked up at the school building, laughing to himself. They would not see him. They would not even know where the water had come from. Bakura had taken it upon himself to open several windows below and above his own. The water could have come from any one of them. He snorted. Even if he was found out, it did not matter.

He refilled the bucket at the sink. He was in one of the science classrooms. It was rather convenient since he did not have to go to the restroom to refill every time he claimed a victim.

The door slid open and Bakura cursed. He had been caught too soon. He was not done terrorizing the student body –

“Bakura?”

“Ishtar? What are you doing here?” Malik slid the door closed behind him and shrugged.

“I heard some girls got drenched, so I came to see if it was you and it _is_ you and here I am!” The blonde grinned cheekily and Bakura groaned.

“Ishtar, go back to your brother. You're going to get me caught.” Malik grimaced at him and pulled a small, blue box from his pocket. It was wrapped with a white ribbon.

“Fine. But first you have to accept this.” He thrust it into Bakura's hands and the white-haired teen blinked at the gift box.

“What the hell is this for?” Bakura turned the thing over in his hands suspiciously. Malik shifted uncomfortably and did not meet his gaze.

“...I heard it was your birthday,” he muttered and Bakura stared at him, a single eyebrow raised in amusement.

“My birthday...”

Malik frowned and held his hand out. It was trembling only the slightest bit.

“I guess I was lied to. Give it back –”

“How did you know it was my birthday?”

Malik blinked at him, hand dropping back to his side.

“Ryou told me,” he said uncertainly.

“Huh.”

Bakura pulled at the ribbon holding the box closed and pried the lid off. Inside was a gold necklace. The pendant hanging from it looked to be a dream-catcher of some sort. There was an eye in a triangle contained in a circle with five hanging points. The pendant was no larger than a 500 yen coin. Bakura lifted the necklace from the box and unclasped it. He brought the simple chain around his neck and clasped it on. He did not need to know what it meant, so he did not ask. Something in his gut told him he should not ask, that he was better off not knowing.

“Cool. Thanks, Ishtar,” he said offhandedly, turning back to his bucket of water.

“Malik.” Bakura glanced back and Malik met his gaze steadily.

“Call me Malik.” Bakura smirked and closed his eyes, a pleased tingle going through him. _When he opened them, he nodded._

_“...thanks,_ Malik.”

 

Frowning at the memory, Bakura sat up, gripping his pendant tightly. This dog collar around his neck would not help him. Not the way he needed. Bakura yanked and the chain popped. The small sound was loud in the empty gymnasium. He held the cursed thing in his fist, raising his hand to throw it to the ground.

Malik's voice was a whisper in his head.

_“...happy birthday, 'Kura.”_

Standing, Bakura shoved the necklace into his pocket. He could not dispose of it here. Here he could come back for it later. No. He needed a more permanent home for this _choker._

He then made his way down the bleachers. His second class would start soon. Atemu really would come get him then if he did not show up, though Bakura honestly could not afford to skip anymore.

* * *

Walking into his classroom, Bakura rolled his eyes when Atemu immediately waved him over.

He took the desk in front of the teen and did not bother turning around to look at him when he spoke.

“What.”

He could hear Atemu lean closer. The hairs at the back of his neck stood on end and Bakura now realized how vulnerable he had left himself. He regretted not turning around. It was so easy to forget that Atemu was a predator. That Atemu was someone who could rip out his throat in a second if the mood swayed him. Of course, that was an exaggeration, but Bakura felt the imminent danger all the way to his bones. It was times like these that Bakura wondered why he only had friends he was afraid of.

“You never got back to me. Did you do that favor I asked of you?”

Bakura wanted to scoff. Atemu did not ask for favors. He had never known Atemu to ask for a single thing in the entire time he had known him. Bakura glanced around surreptitiously, lowering his voice to a murmur.

“If you mean your alibi, yeah, I got it. Yuugi looks enough like you with that ridiculous hairstyle. Pretty sure they won't be able to remember the exact color. I made sure the waitresses never saw his face. And if that didn't work, I got Melvin to wear the beanie and lay low. Should be enough, I think.”

Atemu hummed behind him and moved away, the prickling feeling at the back of Bakura's neck lessened, but it was still there, insistent.

“What's going on with you and Malik? Melvin told me you two made quite a scene yesterday.”

Bakura bristled at the reminder. Now was not the time to speak about Malik. When was the right time? Never. _Never_ was the right time to speak about Malik. Bakura was beginning to think that he should not have come to school today.

“What did you need the alibi for?” Bakura retorted quietly. He was not going to talk about that blonde idiot. Enough of his breath had been wasted on him. Two years worth, in fact.

“Someone touched my things.”

Bakura tilted his head to the side in confusion. He turned in his seat to look at Atemu who was looking out the window, chin held up by his palm. Instead of his usual bored expression, Atemu looked thoughtful. Bakura raised a thin eyebrow at him, but Atemu did not even blink.

“What things?” He asked the teen. Yet Atemu did not answer him; he did not appear to even hear Bakura.

“Atemu,” Bakura called to him and Atemu took a breath.

“Am I really a monster?” he asked quietly, his forehead slowly scrunching together. Bakura was about to answer, but Atemu was not even looking at him. He did not think Atemu even realized he had spoken aloud. The sallow-skinned teen settled back into his seat without responding to the question. Because, really, what could he possibly say?

Atemu, Melvin, and himself were all monsters in one way or another. Even when they thought they were doing the right thing. _Especially_ when they thought they were doing the right thing.

Just the other day, Bakura had sent someone to a hospital because the kid had made the mistake of picking on his brother for his eccentricities.

Last week, Melvin had “accidentally” cut off the finger of a guy in the middle of a theft.

_“It's not a bad thing._ _The less fingers he has, the harder it will be to rob people,”_ Melvin had said.

Last year, Atemu had set fire to a man who had escaped from prison and taken a girl as a hostage.

And that was not including all the petty thievery (mostly by himself), destruction of both public and private property (Melvin dealing with his rage), or bullying they did at school (mostly done by Atemu following orders from his stomach). Bakura was certain they were monsters. Even if they did act as vigilantes at times, enacting their own brand of twisted justice, they were still The Joker masquerading as Batman. They were demons conjured from the very shadows, tainting everything they touched.

“You're certainly not a model citizen,” Bakura said, breaking Atemu from his thoughts.

Atemu's dark eyes snapped onto him and Bakura shrugged before facing the front. The teacher walked in, putting a pause on whatever conversation was about to begin and the students around them settled, conversations breaking off one by one.

As old Mr. Miyamoto began his lessons, Bakura glanced at the window, his eye catching the dome-shaped Japanese maple on the other side of the courtyard, next to the building the junior high students occupied. He used to sleep under that tree during his last year of junior high. The scarlet leaves shuddered in the wind and Bakura reflected on his first meeting with Melvin and Malik Ishtar a little over two years ago.

It had been quite a sunny day. Bakura remembered because the excessive sun had given his little brother sunburn and also because it was the first time he had been suspended...

 

_“Is that all you got!”_

_Bakura opened_ _his tired eyes_ and groaned, staring up at the widespread branches of the momiji tree he rested under. The leaves were various shades of orange to red, the sun above making them glow stupendously. Bakura often did not take time to enjoy nature. In fact, it was something he hated to do. Nature gave him allergies and the sun always made him tired. He blinked wearily and sat up, glancing around to see who was making such a racket during his nap.

Little more than nine meters away, three students stood around a boy who was on his hands and knees and covered in dirt. He was staring up at them defiantly, black streaks smudged down his cheeks and around his eyes. Bakura stared at the boy with the bruised copper-brown skin and pale, yellow hair and he frowned. He did not know who this kid was, but he bore a strong resemblance to one of his classmates.

One of the surrounding boys lashed out, punching the boy sloppily across the face. The blonde lost his balance and crumpled to the ground where he struggled to lift himself once more. Bakura stood before he could fully process his next thought and stepped forward, pausing when another blonde came running into view, tackling the one who had just struck the boy to the ground where he then started punching him in the face. A second boy jumped onto the newcomer's back.

“Brother!” cried out the boy with smudged makeup, making to stand before the third attacker kicked his feet out from under him.

_Fucking cowards,_  Bakura thought savagely.

He did not hesitate this time. The two apparent siblings were outnumbered and the younger one was not putting up much of a fight, so Bakura did not see much choice in the matter. He ran.

He took the third by surprise, shoving him to the ground and grabbing the boy trying to choke the elder brother. He yanked him off, giving him a swift punch in the face before the one he had caught first attacked him from behind, wrapping his arms around Bakura's throat.

Bakura elbowed him and stomped on his foot before turning and pulling him down to knee him in the face. He felt someone take hold of his hair, but then the grip was gone. Bakura turned to see the elder brother twisting one of the boy's arms behind his back as he kicked the other coming at him in the stomach.

His brief distraction cost him as the kid he was taking care of body-slammed him to the ground. Bakura scraped his cheek and flipped onto his back with a grimace. The boy got one good punch in before Bakura brought up his leg and hit him right in the crotch. The boy let out a yowl and fell, holding himself as he cursed.

“What on earth is going on here!?”

The scuffle seemed to freeze in place and Bakura sat up to see two teachers coming towards them, both looking angry and worried at the same time. Bakura looked to the side to see the older blonde checking on the younger one before helping him stand.

After a disordered explanation and accusations thrown between each half of young teens, the six of them were led to the main office and sat in chairs outside in the hall, the three idiots across from Bakura and the brothers. The three were making menacing gestures and Bakura smirked at them. Their cheap attempt to get him riled up was wasted. He had already won. Bakura was about to tell them as much, until the elder blonde at his side nudged him and smiled.

“I love the way you went for that guy's balls. I'm Melvin. Melvin Ishtar.”

“Bakura.”

Melvin smirked at him with a cut lip and jerked his head to the younger blonde who was looking mournfully into a small circular mirror as he tried to fix the damage his tears had wreaked upon his eyeliner and tentatively touching the cuts on his face.

“That's my baby brother Malik Ishtar.”

Malik had begun to frantically rub at his face, his sad, pained look becoming annoyed with the stubbornness of the makeup and blood covering his face like warpaint. He was attractive (even covered in dirt as he was), like Melvin, but there were notable differences between the two. Melvin's skin was not as tan or smooth or as soft-looking as Malik's. Bakura could tell by the carefully maintained, pale eyebrows and well-kept nails, that Malik took his presentation seriously. Melvin, on the other hand, did not seem to care for his appearance, like Malik obviously did. And as he looked at the younger sibling, Bakura was loathe to admit that he kind of liked it.

Malik raised his dirty, blonde head and looked at Bakura then, lips pursed.

“What the frig are you looking at, fluffy!”

Discomfited with being caught looking, Bakura could not control his scandalized tone when he spoke.

“Fluffy!?”

Malik scoffed and rolled his eyes.

It was hard for Bakura to believe that this was the boy who had been crying like a five-year-old only ten minutes ago, unable to defend himself from three morons.

“Well, with hair like _that,_ what the frig am I supposed to call you?” Malik motioned majestically to his white, definitely-not-fluffy, hair and gave him a pointed look before saying, “Geez, it's like someone shaved a dozen furbies and just glued the fur to your head!”

Offended with the quips against his amazing hair, Bakura jabbed a finger in Malik's direction.

“Speak for yourself. I'm not the one who looks like they took a bloody dust bath and smashed their face in tar!” But rather than be offended, Malik only gave him a dismissive wave.

“I don't normally look like this,” he said snootily, “I'm actually way hotter. You can blame those chicken brains for my rarely-seen, unkempt appearance. What's _your_ excuse?” The three chicken brains all hissed insults right back at Malik who just ignored them.

Melvin started laughing at that, hauling Bakura close to his side and tapping him on the nose.

“I like you!” the boy smiled at him and grinned at his sibling, “don't you like him, Malik? Let's keep him!” He squeezed Bakura closer and the pale boy could only sputter incoherently. A dark flush overtook his face as the life was constricted out of him. Melvin had a grip like a python that he did not even seem to be aware of. Or rather, Bakura's choking did not faze him and that scared Bakura like nothing else.

Malik huffed and shrugged, but a peach blush dispersed across his cheeks even whilst he turned his nose up at Bakura and continued with his fix-up.

“I don't really care either way, Melvin.”

_Bakura was only released from the deathtrap that was Melvin, when the school administrator came out to begin his interrogations._

 

Bakura ripped his eyes from the tree, irritated with the memory, hand coming up to grasp at his empty neck. He frowned at the motion and gripped his shirt instead, a sickly feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach. Behind him, he could hear Atemu snoring softly. He rolled his eyes. It was just like the guy to fall asleep in class.

Mr. Miyamoto paused briefly to grimace in their direction before returning to his instruction, motioning to something on the board. Bakura could not care less about the lesson. He would only end up copying off of Atemu anyway when the test came.

The instructor left everyone to their own devices before walking over to Atemu and quietly waking him.

“Mr. Goutei,” the teacher said, “I understand you could pass this class with your eyes closed, but I would rather you keep them open while I teach. Even if you're not paying attention to me, you could work on something quietly like Mr. Kaiba.” The man motioned to the brunette a few seats away who sat with a book in hand. “This is school and you cannot sleep here.”

Bakura wanted to laugh, but refrained. Atemu was not one to make fun of, not if he wanted all his limbs to remain intact.

“Of course,” came Atemu's sleepy yawn.

Mr. Miyamoto retreated to his desk, but not before casting a disapproving glance at Bakura who had nothing on his desk. Atemu sighed heavily.

“I wish I were home-schooled,” he muttered.

“You can be,” Bakura replied to which Atemu hummed his agreement.

“So remind me why I'm still here?”

Bakura shrugged.

“I have no idea why you choose to keep subjecting yourself to this legal torture. But it must be one hell of a reason because you're still here.”

“Maybe I'd be too lonely,” said Atemu quietly.

Bakura rubbed at his shirt where his necklace used to hang, the action doing little to tame the itching in his fingers. On the other side of class, a loud blonde complained about a question. It was the guy Malik had flirted with. _Y_ _u_ _ugi's_ friend. Mr. Miyamoto made his way over to help as a snide comment from Kaiba made the surrounding students laugh.

_Lonely, huh?_ Bakura contemplated Atemu's words, absently rubbing at his chest. He watched the blonde at the other end of class as he became instantly riled up with Kaiba's comment. The teacher was quick to calm him and stopped the blonde from attacking the brunette; Bakura hummed thoughtfully.

“Maybe that's a better feeling,” he responded after a long silence, softly, to himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize the accuracy of some details are screwy. My mistake, but let us press on.
> 
> This chapter was less about Yuugi and Atemu and more about Bakura and Malik. Stay tuned for chapter six where more things happen.


	6. Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba takes Jounouchi when Yuugi needs him. Bakura and Malik are children. And Atemu proves that maybe he really is a monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added some very important clues to this chapter that I really hope you (the readers) will pick up on. (It has nothing to do with Jounouchi/Kaiba.)
> 
> I just really like throwing bits and pieces here and there and watching y'all put them together. Might not be important story-wise, but it adds to the characters. Anyway, enjoy the new chapter.

“Fucking end me.”

Groaning, Atemu dropped his head to the desk where his forehead collided with the wood, a dull thud alerting Bakura beside him. Snorting with amusement, Bakura looked at Atemu who had his hands in his hair, pulling at the strands in what looked like secondhand embarrassment. He whispered, “This is more painful than watching you and Malik interact.”

The comment immediately wiped the smirk from Bakura's face. His expression soured, lips thinning, eyes narrowing. Once Atemu had uttered his unholy words, Bakura, despite the humorous class, only wanted it to end as quickly as possible.

“So then,” with a trembling voice, the woman at the front of the class room took up a thin, square, foiled package and hesitated when a fit of snickers erupted around the classroom. She pursed her lips and stared hard at the small square. Her eyes unfocused slightly and her brow creased, as though rethinking her life choices. The educator was awkwardly trying to explain contraception to a class filled with amused teenagers as they watched her trying not to drop the zucchini in her other hand. She had stumbled through the entire lesson, growing increasingly irate and embarrassed with every word. One look at the flustered teacher told of her extreme reluctance to continue and undying desire to vanish from the spot.

“You take the condom –”

A series of giggles rippled through the classroom and the teacher sighed, closing her eyes slightly as a flush of red spread across the bridge of her nose. “And,” she continued, ignoring the students, “you carefully rip the foil.” She fumbled the zucchini as she set it down on the table and Atemu raised his head only to roll his eyes.

“This is ridiculous,” Atemu said and Bakura scowled at his desk.

“Dude, this is hilarious,” came Melvin's hiss from Atemu's other side, “the hell is up your ass? Enjoy the show.”

“We aren't even learning anything,” Atemu argued back, “we already know about STDs and _that.”_ He motioned to the condom in the teacher's hand. The movement was awkward and halting, an odd combination to see in one Atemu Goutei. With a snort, Melvin shrugged.

“What are you talking about? Gonorrhea is very important stuff,” said Melvin with a chuckle. At the front, the brunette teacher was pulling the condom from the package. Tossing the wrapper onto the table, she took the zucchini into her hand once more and began unrolling the condom onto the vegetable. She explained her actions with stilted words, looking twice as uncomfortable as before. The students laughed and whispered amongst themselves and the woman continued to pretend as though she could not hear them.

“Dammit!”

Suddenly, the phallic-shaped vegetable slipped from her fingers and fell to the table where it bounced off and onto the floor. The class erupted with muffled laughter as they tried to hide their gleeful faces. “Look at her, she's probably never handled a dick in her life.”

“You're a child,” Atemu growled.

“You're a prude,” Melvin snarked back at him.

“You're both missing the runaway penis,” Bakura snapped, still sore from the earlier comment. He was determined to enjoy whatever was left of the class and to put a certain blonde out of his mind. However, he could not do that unless the two cousins shut their traps. The cousins looked around, Melvin with joy, Atemu with a grimace. They watched their teacher scramble around the ground, trying to grab the rolling condom-covered zucchini. Atemu covered his face with his hand and Melvin brightened at the sight. The giggles from the students grew louder and only stopped when the woman straightened, vegetable grasped tightly in her fist. She glared at the classroom and all fell silent.

Clearing her throat, the red-faced teacher moved back behind the table and continued where she had left off. When the bell rang, there were multiple groans of disappointment and the teacher's loud, relieved sigh.

* * *

It was lunchtime when Yuugi, Malik, and Ryou made their way to the corner table. Melvin was already there, sitting with his back to the wall. Malik sat in front of him, turning his head this way and that. Noticing this, Ryou sat next to Melvin and Yuugi followed his lead. Sitting beside Ryou, it was quite obvious to Yuugi that Malik was waiting for someone and he did not want to intrude.

“Yuug'! How's that cut doin'?” Yuugi looked up to see Jounouchi sliding in beside Malik, who frowned before glancing about again. Rubbing at the large, tender bruise on his forehead, Yuugi shrugged. He had called Jounouchi the night before to share his unfortunate day and ask him to stick around so he would not be alone with Atemu or be found by the bully again. He had also tried to talk about his burgeoning feelings, but that had not gone well at all.

 

_“Can you just believe the nerve of that guy?” Jounouchi said, sounding aggravated as he always was prone to be when discussing one Seto Kaiba. Yuugi had heard it all. Kaiba was a jerk. Kaiba was arrogant. Kaiba was probably still a virgin because who would want to sleep with someone with such a disgusting personality? Yuugi was almost at his wit's end with Jounouchi's unrelenting babble over Kaiba. “I swear, one of these days, I'm going to kick his ass –”_

_“Jounouchi, I think I may have a crush on a guy,” Yuugi interrupted, hoping he could change the worn topic and maybe segue into his growing problematic crush. Jounouchi had badmouthed Kaiba so much that it almost felt like beating a dead horse by now._

_Useless._

_“For the last time, Seto Kaiba is just my rival!”_

_Yuugi smacked his forehead with his palm and regretted it soon after as his bruise throbbed with the abuse. He rubbed soothingly at it. There was no hope for his best friend. He groaned and sighed._

_“Jounouchi,” Yuugi mumbled, “are you for real?”_

_Jounouchi's sheepish chuckle traveled through the phone line. “I mean,” Jounouchi cleared his throat, “what was the question again?”_

 

Yuugi had evaded the topic by bringing up Jounouchi's report which caused the young man to panic and anxiously excuse himself so that he could get something done. Yuugi had let him go and had hung up with a bemused smile on his face. In the present, Yuugi sighed and looked to his friend to reply.

“Hey, Jounouchi. It's fine. Did you finish that report?”

Jounouchi shook his golden head, frowning, already picking at his food without bothering to remove his schoolbag.

“I got some done, but, Yuug',” Jounouchi pleaded, his honey-brown eyes shining, “you gotta help me, buddy. I ain't no good at this!”

Yuugi bit his lip, brow puckered.

“You're a grade above me. I don't know how well I'd be able to help, Jounouchi –”

“Come on, Yuug', don't sell yourself short! You're _great_ at history!”

“Just like you to beg for help.”

Jounouchi's mood went straight down the drain, shoulders hunching. He did not have to turn to know the owner of the voice. Jounouchi was already intimately acquainted with those smug vocals. He would know it even with a concrete wall muffling its sound. Jounouchi gritted his teeth. He knew it was Seto Kaiba standing behind him.

“I knew you couldn't do it.”

Jounouchi bristled at the self-satisfied comment, crossing his arms and glaring at his food.

“Fuck off, Kaiba. Nobody called you here.”

Yet Kaiba still stood there, smirk in place, striking blue eyes glimmering with mirth.

“I'm here because we need to go to the library so I can fix whatever mess you put together.”

Jounouchi met Yuugi's eyes then, face pinched in angry determination. Knowing Jounouchi was about to snap, Yuugi gasped, ready to stop his friend from making a huge mistake when Atemu's smooth, low voice wandered over to them.

“Kaiba, doesn't picking on the same person for three years ever get old?” Yuugi went very still at the sound, heart skipping happily as Atemu appeared at his side. He looked up at the teen, his head going foggy. The only thought floating in his mind was his desire to bottle up that beautiful voice and keep it in his heart forever.

“Why are you talking to me?” the brunette retorted, his eyes narrowing.

“I'd have thought you had outgrown the need to pull pigtails,” said Atemu, a wide, cheeky grin in place. He did not notice Yuugi melt into his chair at the sight, but Jounouchi did. The blonde's anger with Kaiba was suddenly eclipsed by his worry for Yuugi's well-being.

“Yuug', are you okay?” he whispered to his friend. He nudged Yuugi's foot with his own and the boy snapped back to the present, his mauve eyes bulging, a flush creeping up to his ears. Yuugi did not look at him, but instead picked up his utensils, concentrating so hard on his food that Jounouchi thought it would burst into flame.

He opened his mouth to continue prodding, but Kaiba shoved him impatiently towards Malik (who leveled them both with an extremely annoyed look) and took a seat.

“Goutei,” Kaiba scoffed and Atemu's jaw visibly clenched in reaction, “kicking a puppy isn't worth my time. I'm only here to finish this infernal project as quickly as possible.”

Whipping his head around, Jounouchi glared at Kaiba, obviously peeved at the “puppy” comment.

“What the hell, man?” he snapped, but Kaiba did not even bother acknowledging his irritation.

With a grimace, Atemu turned his attention away from Kaiba. He gently prodded Yuugi on the shoulder and the young teen jumped at the contact.

“Mutou, would you mind?” he asked, seemingly unaware of Yuugi's nervousness.

Without a verbal reply, Yuugi scooted as close to Ryou as he could and Atemu sat beside him. There was so little space on the bench that no matter how much Yuugi plastered himself to a very amused Ryou, his entire side was snug with Atemu Goutei. It also did not help that everywhere Atemu's body met his was starting to burn hot. He squirmed in discomfort. Beside him, Ryou gave him a questioning look and Yuugi quickly shook his head in answer. He was sure Ryou would ask him about his behavior later and he would avoid the questions with his life.

On the other side of the table, Kaiba turned to give Jounouchi the most haughty look he could when he realized Jounouchi was still glaring at him.

“Hurry up and eat. We have a project to work on.” Kaiba ignored the knowing look Atemu sent him and focused on something other than the people seated around him. He especially paid no attention to the golden retriever sitting next to him. The one glaring at him with those fiery caramel eyes.

“How about you leave and I meet you at the library,” said Jounouchi through gritted teeth.

Kaiba did not even glance at him when he spoke.

“Already here. Just deal with it and hurry up. I don't have the patience to deal with you any longer than necessary.”

“So then leave!” Jounouchi shouted and Kaiba pretended that the explosive volume directed at his ear did not hurt his eardrum.

“Just hurry up, will you?” Kaiba said derisively, “You're wasting time.”

The two continued to bicker and Yuugi would have intervened to help his friend, but he was too busy trying not to pass out from how little he was trying to breathe. Having Atemu so close was some kind of weird, pleasurable torture. He wanted to enjoy the close proximity to his growing crush, but his head screamed at him to get away and stay away. He took a deep breath to make his head stop spinning and abruptly sighed when the glorious scent of the handkerchief met his nose. Atemu smelled even more like the mysterious odor than the handkerchief had. When Atemu turned at the sound, Yuugi looked at the table and wished urgently for the earth to swallow him whole.

Malik huffed haughtily, the first sound to leave him since he had arrived at the table and Melvin raised his head sharply to look at him.

“Someone picking on you again?” he asked and he sounded completely bored, though his searching eyes looked anything but.

Malik shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, poking at his full plate. He did not feel like eating. Did not feel like being in school. Did not feel like doing much of anything really. When he noticed Melvin was staring at him, Malik made an effort to shove noodles into his mouth, chewing mechanically before swallowing. His brother moved his gaze away, satisfied and Malik forced himself not to sigh. The less Melvin suspected, the better.

“Well,” Melvin said, interrupting the awkward silence that had suddenly fallen around the table when Jounouchi had begun to eat, “seeing as how this table has exceeded capacity and Bakura is not even here to entertain me, I'm leaving. Ciao, losers,” Melvin stood, casting one last searching glance to his little brother before departing. Ryou shuffled over to the free spot and Yuugi almost fell out of his seat trying to follow after him and put some much-needed space between himself and Atemu who cast him a confused look.

Jounouchi stopped his angry chewing long enough to make sure Yuugi was alright before starting up again. He knew something was up with Yuugi lately, and he felt guilt over being so inattentive. But he would not be finding anything out anytime soon with the rich jerk next to him monopolizing his time. Jounouchi finished his food quickly and left the table with a small wave of goodbye to his friend. He did not check to see if Yuugi waved back because Kaiba was shoving past him to take the lead. He growled and walked faster. He would not let Kaiba win.

Yuugi finally allowed himself to breathe freely, his hands shook as he spooned soup into his mouth. Now that he had some semblance of room, he did not feel so lightheaded. He also could not smell Atemu as well as before, about which he was secretly bitter. Shifting, Atemu carelessly bumped his leg against Yuugi's who dropped his tofu piece in surprise and it landed into his soup with a plop.

 _I wish I could turn invisible right about now,_ Yuugi thought with an anxious bite of his lip.

Atemu nudged over his fruit cup, oblivious to Yuugi's inner turmoil and his outward unease. He flashed a brief shy smile at the anxious boy before starting in on his food.

Taking the fruit cup, Yuugi hid his own smile in the collar of his jacket. In his belly, a swarm of butterflies lifted off in a frenzy. Once again, Atemu had gifted him his dessert and Yuugi was quite fond of sweet things.

“Touzoku, you came!” Ryou happily greeted his elder brother as Bakura took a seat at the table, next to Malik. The blonde pretended he did not notice, although his wandering gaze was now focused intently on his plate full of food. “But where's your food?”

Bakura shrugged at his little brother before clearing his throat.

“Atemu, guess what I just heard the teachers whispering about.”

Atemu grew still and slowly looked up, paying full attention to the unusually serious Bakura.

“I don't know,” Atemu responded with equal gravity, “Why don't you tell me.”

Bakura leaned across the table, snatching a noodle from Ryou's plate and slurping it down. Ryou emitted a small, annoyed huff, but said nothing.

“It seems,” Bakura started, “that a student was attacked yesterday.” He paused, but Atemu showed no reaction, so he continued. “They're saying it looks pretty bad and that he won't talk. Got any clue as to what happened to the guy?”

Atemu chuckled and, next to him, Yuugi felt dread spread through his veins.

 _Atemu, no,_ Yuugi thought as he gave his fruit cup a sad glance, _please say you didn't hurt someone else._

“How would I possibly know what happened to him?” Even though his tone was casual and light, there was an underlying threat in his words. “Seems to me that people should be focusing less on the misfortune of others and more on themselves, don't you think?”

Sighing, Bakura waved away the matter entirely, reaching over to take Ryou's tray.

“Touzoku!” reprimanded Ryou, slapping the hand away from his food. “You should have gotten your own if you were hungry,” he told his brother crossly as Bakura rubbed the offended hand.

“But I'm your brother!”

“Yeah, well … fine, I'll give you my food if you and Malik stop your fighting and make up.”

Bakura's face went strangely blank at the request and Malik huffed.

“Please, Ryou, like I need him in my life anyway!” the blonde hissed with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.

Bakura's blank expression twitched before he reached into his pocket and slapped his palm on the table sliding it over to Malik.

“Then,” Bakura said, calmly, “I suppose you won't mind if I return this piece of junk?” He removed his hand to reveal a broken, gold chain with a circular pendant. Bakura did not look at Malik. He did not want to see whatever expression was on the other's face. He did not want to see the pain in those pale lavender eyes. Bakura did not want to know if he had hurt Malik with his spur-of-the-moment decision.

Malik placed a trembling hand on the necklace, gently lifting it. He placed it into his chest pocket and got up from the table.

“N-no,” he croaked, “I don't mind at all. Good riddance!” And without another word to Bakura, he picked up his full tray and left.

Staring after his friend miserably, Ryou sighed. He had not meant to make things worse. He had only wanted them to make up and finally stop avoiding their feelings. Abruptly, Ryou gave his brother a furious glare and shoved his tray towards him aggressively.

Bakura caught it, wincing when the hot soup sloshed onto his sleeve.

“Big brother,” grit out Ryou in an extraordinary show of anger, “sometimes you can be the biggest jerk!” He picked up his bag along with Malik's forgotten one and stormed off then, determined to find Malik and try to fix what he had unintentionally made worse.

Yuugi stared after his friend, feeling like he should follow. One look at Bakura, however, had him changing his mind. Bakura appeared regretful. His dark eyes had lost their malice, and his lips had smoothed into a thin line, one corner turned down unhappily. He was poking at the food Ryou had thrown at him; his appetite did not seem to be there at all.

“Bakura,” Yuugi tried, “I know this is none of my business –”

“If it's none of your business, then you should probably shut your fucking mouth,” Bakura snapped at him.

Yuugi recoiled at the teen's sudden anger and Atemu sprang across the table in a flash. The table rattled with the skid of Atemu's tray and the milk bottle upon it tilted dangerously before settling back onto its base. Taking hold of the startled Bakura, Atemu hauled him close by his collar. Startled, Yuugi glanced at the teachers, sure they would put a stop to whatever was about to happen. But as he looked, Yuugi realized that the teachers were gossiping amongst themselves and paying the students no mind. Alarmed and nervous, Yuugi looked back to Bakura and Atemu, his entire body frozen in his seat with anticipation and fear.

“You will learn to watch your fucking mouth,” Atemu hissed in barely restrained rage, knuckles white. Bakura's anger faded and his face drained of all color. He looked positively terrified in the presence of Atemu's wrath. Yuugi could not blame him for his reaction. Had he been in Bakura's unfortunate position, Yuugi was sure he would be pissing himself in fear. “Apologize and get the fuck out of my sight.” Atemu released the frightened Bakura and waited menacingly, shoulders tight.

“Sorry, Yuugi,” Bakura breathed, casting the young boy a scared look before picking up Ryou's tray and darting away.

Yuugi trembled, just as afraid as Bakura had been. He had never seen anyone act so vicious. He had not thought Atemu could even look that way. But it seemed that Yuugi had severely underestimated just how dangerous, or perhaps, insane Atemu really was. He jumped when Atemu moved to take his seat once more. Yuugi winced when the teen looked at him apologetically.

“Forgive me, little one,” he said and his voice was gentle once more. All trace of Atemu's ire was gone. His grimace was repentant. “I lost my temper. I didn't like how he yelled at you. I know I shouldn't have gone off like that, I'm sorry.” He reached out to touch Yuugi's hand, but Yuugi withdrew himself further. With a self-deprecating smile, Atemu let his hand fall back into his lap. “I must appear a monster,” he whispered.

“I forgive you,” Yuugi's stomach clenched at the hope that lit up Atemu's eyes. “But,” Yuugi hesitated, “but you still scare me.” Yuugi's heart sank along with the hope that had lit Atemu's face. He hated himself for taking it, hated Atemu for causing these feelings. So Yuugi carefully pulled on his backpack, picked up his tray, and sighed. He did not know what else to say.

Before walking away, he settled for, “I'm sorry.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope y'all enjoyed that.


	7. Bad Boy, Bad Boy, Watcha Gonna Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuugi has a talk with Malik and Ryou; Atemu comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a ripoff of the song _Bad Boys_ by Inner Circle.
> 
> So it's been two weeks and the wait is over. Here is another trash chapter of more YGO trash. Double trash. Trash squared. Someone call the waste collectors and tell them I am ready to be picked up. Thanks.
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter.

As Yuugi searched for his two friends, he remembered, vividly, the person who attacked him the day before. Panicking at the thought of being caught on his own, he looked around corners before going down the halls, glancing behind him periodically as he went. Yuugi did not know when his assailant would appear, or if he would at all. Yuugi hoped he would not. As it was, he was wary of doors, almost tiptoeing past them.

 _I wish Jounouchi didn't have that project to do,_  he thought.

After searching for what seemed an eternity, Yuugi stopped and leaned against a wall. He felt so stressed and nervous wandering the halls alone. After taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he tucked the fruit cup he had been absently carrying around into his backpack and laid it on the floor. Pulling Atemu's handkerchief from his pocket, he frowned to himself. He had failed to return it. He was not sure if he could now. Atemu had not even asked him for it.

Running his thumb over Atemu's name, Yuugi groaned. He needed to stop this absurd crush in its tracks. It was already getting out of hand. The absurd way he had reacted in Atemu's mere presence was a telltale sign of what a bad idea it was to be taken in by this crush. When Atemu looked at him, it was as though he could not remember how to breathe and his lungs had ached. And whether it be from fear or excitement, when Yuugi looked at Atemu, he could not help but tremble all the way to his core. It was silly, ridiculous even.

 _I barely know him!_ Yuugi fretted, _And he's not even a good person! He's harassed and assaulted people!_

 _But he's also sweet and caring,_ said a teeny voice in the depths of his mind, _He's given you his dessert twice already._

Yuugi let himself slide down the wall, pulling on his bangs roughly in frustration.

 _He probably just doesn't like sweet stuff,_ Yuugi argued.

 _He made Bakura apologize to you,_ insisted the voice, _he defended you._

Yuugi pulled up his knees and buried his face into them. _He lost control, attacked Bakura and scared the heck out of me. How_ gallant _of him,_ Yuugi told the voice, annoyed.

That little voice in his head needed to shut up already. What could it know – how could it possibly understand the danger that was Atemu Goutei?

 _He was scared for you when he saw what that giant did to you, even cleaned the blood off without hurting you,_ the voice whispered.

 _Scared for me? That's just wishful thinking._ Yuugi cleared his thoughts, holding the cloth close. He needed to return it sooner or later. He could not keep it. No matter how much it was starting to mean to him.

“Yuugi!”

Yuugi snapped up in surprise, smacking his head against the wall. Wincing in pain, he rubbed at the stinging spot and looked around. Walking quickly towards him from the end of the hall, were Ryou and Malik. Both looked anxious and grateful to see him.

“Ryou! Malik!” He stood, grabbing his backpack and rushing over to meet them. He sighed in relief. “Thank goodness you found me,” he told them, “I've been looking everywhere for you!”

“Sorry, Yuugi, we're glad we found you safe and sound. Have you bumped into that jerk yet?” Malik glanced around as he spoke, almost expecting said jerk to come out of thin air and attack. Yuugi shook his head and both Ryou and Malik looked relieved.

Malik huffed.

“Still wish you knew who it was. I'd teach that guy a lesson he'd never forget in his short, pitiful life!”

Yuugi chuckled good-naturedly. He was happy that Malik did not seem sad anymore.

“So um,” Ryou leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, “how did it go with Atemu?”

Instantly, Yuugi's crush came to the forefront of his mind. He felt panic then; Ryou had to have noticed his odd behavior and was now going to interrogate him about it. He could not let Ryou know that he was developing a maligned crush the size of the moon on Atemu Goutei. Turning a bright red, Yuugi let out a high-pitched laugh, waving his hands in disaffirmation.

“What are you talking about? There's nothing to discuss!”

“Uh, Ryou, I'm with Yuugi, what the frig are you talking about?” Malik was rather confused. Since when was there something to discuss between Atemu and anyone? His cousin was an enigma who never got involved with anyone beyond Bakura and Melvin, barely bothering with himself and Ryou. That was unless Atemu was aiding Melvin and Bakura in beating on the guys that picked on them. Bakura was Atemu's only friend (or at least someone he tolerated) and Melvin and himself were his cousins (whom Atemu also only tolerated). Malik figured that Atemu considered Ryou as just an extension of Bakura.

“Are you telling me nothing happened and I left you with Atemu for _nothing?”_ Ryou pouted at Yuugi who only gaped.

“You left me with him on purpose? Ryou!” Yuugi scolded and was glad to see that Ryou at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“Well,” Ryou's brow creased, “I thought maybe Atemu would do something if I left you guys alone.” He looked imploringly at Yuugi and sighed. “So he really didn't do anything?”

Yuugi gave him a one-armed shrug.

“Well,” he said, “it's not like we were really alone with your brother there.” Malik's face fell at the mention of Bakura and Yuugi wanted to take the words back immediately.

“I guess you're right,” said Ryou with a wistful grimace

“But he did give me his fruit cup and attack Bakura,” Yuugi said, feeling unusually vindictive. Bakura had hurt his friend and Yuugi was upset by it. He was sure Malik would be happy to hear of this. “Scared the heck right out of him.”

Malik's mouth fell open and he laughed. “Serves him right!”

“What?” Ryou looked taken aback and worried. “He _attacked_ Touzoku?” Yuugi nodded. “Why?”

“Well, see,” Yuugi shuffled his feet, “I wanted to tell Bakura he was being mean even though it's not my place, and Bakura kinda yelled at me for it.” He glanced at Malik who gave him an appreciative smile. “And when he yelled at me, Atemu kind of snapped. He grabbed Bakura and I swear he almost punched him. But he just told Bakura to watch his mouth, apologize, and leave.”

“He did that! And you said nothing happened!” Ryou looked betrayed and Yuugi could not even begin to understand why.

“Well, it scared me, so it's not really a good thing –”

“And he gave you his fruit cup too?” This time, Malik was the one who appeared surprised.

“Atemu never lets go of his desserts!” Malik cried, affronted, “Not even to me! And I'm his cousin!” Yuugi stared at him.

“He's your cousin?!” Yuugi asked in shock. He had not known Atemu was related to Melvin and Malik.

“Yes!” Malik yelled. “And he gave you his friggin' fruit cup! I can't believe it!”

Yuugi could not believe it either. He wanted an explanation for this rather odd day. He was beginning to doubt whether he was awake at all. Yuugi reasoned that he was still asleep in bed, dreaming. All he needed now was for Atemu to come down the corridor, shirtless. He glanced around his friends hopefully, but Atemu did not appear, with or without his shirt. As ridiculous as his expectation was, Yuugi could not help but feel slight disappointment.

“Well, maybe he just didn't feel like eating his fruit cup today,” Yuugi said as he attempted to remain normal in their conversation, then lowered his voice, “Or his yogurt yesterday...”

Ryou took him by his shoulders and shook him, a loud indignant squawk leaving his lips.

“He gave you his yogurt cup from yesterday too?!” he screamed, elated, “Yuugi, why didn't you tell me! This is all the proof I needed!” Ryou grinned so wide in that moment that Yuugi was sure he could see a little bit of Bakura and it scared him.

“Uh, Ryou, calm down,” he said weakly, “please. And explain what proof you're talking about.”

“Yeah,” said Malik, pulling Ryou off of Yuugi and poking him in the side, eliciting a surprised giggle from Ryou. “Tell us what you're on about,” he demanded.

Ryou made a show of looking around them for other students, but there was no one besides them in the hall. He cleared his throat dramatically before hauling both his friends close and whispering excitedly.

“Atemu likes Yuugi!”

Yuugi's heartbeat skyrocketed at that moment. His breath quickened and his palms began to sweat.

“What?” Malik and him both spoke at the same time.

Ryou was smiling as though his birthday had come early that year.

“Atemu likes Yuugi! Atemu likes you,” he tapped Yuugi on the nose and winked.

Yuugi felt like he could not breathe.

“Ryou, did you eat Bakura's brownies again?” he asked with concern and slight suspicion, “I told you last time, you can't just _eat_ things your brother makes. Those brownies aren't edible!” Malik looked at Ryou closely, as though he could tell with just his sight that Ryou had indeed gone and eaten said brownies.

Ryou shoved Malik's face away and shook his head.

“No, Malik, I'm being serious! Atemu likes Yuugi. I _know_ it! Can't you tell?” Ryou turned to plead his case with Yuugi, but the boy had gone very pale and still. “Yuugi?”

But Yuugi was not home. It was like he was spinning on a carousel and he could not hear Ryou calling to him, only trailing words here and there as he kept spinning round and round. His knees felt oddly weak and Yuugi could not recall through his muddled mind if he really had boarded a carnival ride because the dizziness he felt was familiar to the sensation. Or maybe, this was his last day on earth and his body was beginning to give out on him. Maybe it was his dying day and that was why his stomach felt like it was full of lead and his heart filled with helium. His body felt sewn together with single threads, ready to fall apart at the seams.

“Yuugi?” Malik snapped his fingers in his friend's blank face. “What's wrong with him?”

Ryou tapped Yuugi's cheek to no avail and checked the time on his phone.

“Think we can just lead him to class and hope for the best? Because the bell is about to ring and I don't think he's coming back to earth anytime soon.”

“Maybe he's in shock? I mean, _I_ would be if I heard Atemu was in love with _me –”_ started Malik before being broken off by Ryou's exasperated voice.

“He's your cousin! He'd never be in love with you!”

“You've obviously never heard of Edgar Allen Poe,” Malik argued.

“I am not having this conversation with you!” Ryou closed his eyes tiredly, palm to his forehead.

“Well, who else is going to help me ward off Atemu's affections!” Malik sounded hysterical.

“He's not in love with you! He's in love with Yuugi!”

“Maybe that's what he wants us to think! Quick, help me find Melvin to save me –”

“Atemu's in love with me?”

Yuugi's quiet, squeaky voice broke through Malik's hysteria and both Ryou and Malik turned to look at him. Yuugi was holding a folded piece of linen tight against his chest. He looked stunned, his purple eyes wide in disbelief. His mouth opened into a gape and he laughed uneasily, hands coming up to drag through his bangs anxiously.

“He's only known me for like three days!”

Ryou plucked the handkerchief from Yuugi's hands at that moment and Yuugi's incredulous expression turned panicked.

“Wait!” he made to take it back, but Ryou passed it along to Malik who unfolded it curiously.

“What _is_ this? I've been wondering ever since this morning. It looks so _familiar_ _,”_ said Malik and Ryou blocked Yuugi's distressed attempts to retrieve his – no, _Atemu's_ property.

“What is it, Malik?” asked Ryou, head tilted, seemingly indifferent to Yuugi's anxiousness.

Malik frowned.

“This looks like...” he found Atemu's name and he looked at Yuugi in dismay, “It's Atemu's _hanky,”_ he finished softly, turning to Ryou. “You're right,” he handed the cloth over for Ryou's inspection, “he _is_ in love with Yuugi.”

“His what?” Yuugi stopped his fretting and vain tries to reach for the cloth in his confusion.

“Oh, you're right,” said Ryou, “Touzoku mentioned something about this thing. Said Atemu always has it on him, but never actually uses it. I remember because Touzoku says it drives him crazy that he doesn't use it.” He hummed as he examined it, forehead furrowed in thought. “What are these stains?” Ryou rubbed at the light traces of blood that had not fully come off.

“His _what?”_ Yuugi repeated, confused.

“His hanky,” said Malik to Yuugi as he looked at the stains, “the thing he's had since we were little – like his own security blanket. His mom made it for him. It's basically the only thing he actually cares about. He _did_ give this to you, right?” Malik looked fearful for a second before Yuugi nodded.

“Yes,” he said dumbly, “I bumped into him right after that big jerk came after me and he … uh, he wiped off the blood from my cut and just handed it to me. I couldn't get the stains out completely, though.” Yuugi smoothed his fingers over the cut self-consciously, wincing at the light pressure. “I meant to give it back today.”

Ryou silently gave the cloth back to Yuugi and looked to Malik.

“See?” he said, a hint of self-satisfaction in his tone, “I was right.”

Malik's expression turned sour and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Whatever, smugness doesn't suit you, Ryou. And it's not necessarily love. Atemu probably just likes him more than he does everyone else.”

Yuugi folded the material before pocketing it, calm now that it was safely back in his possession.

“It's really only been three days _including_ today,” he told them, ignoring the guilty twinge within himself that pointed out the same little fact when he thought of his crush, “maybe you guys just overestimate how much he likes the _hanky.”_

Malik looked like he wanted to argue, but the sound of the bell had the three putting the whole conversation on the back burner for the meantime. However, as they headed to class, Yuugi found himself silent and pensive as he wondered about Atemu's true intentions and the possibility that his feelings were not as unrequited as he had previously imagined.

* * *

Atemu dropped into the vacant seat next to one discontent Seto Kaiba as the class began to fill. Kaiba looked at him, eyebrow raised and Atemu ignored the silent question. It was not often that he sat next to anyone but Bakura and Melvin, but in this class, with the lab tables, he had to choose someone or risk being sat with a bothersome person who would not let him sleep. He also did not fancy sitting next to Bakura at the moment since he was still volatile enough to take the guy's head off. And being in chemistry made sitting next to Melvin a terribly foolish option.

“Why are you sitting here?” Atemu glanced at Kaiba and put his head down onto his arms, ready to sleep.

“No other option. You're the most likely to let me sleep.”

Kaiba did not respond and Atemu closed his eyes, ready for a nap.

“Hate to break it to you, but we're doing an experiment today and there's no way in hell that I'm doing it for you.”

Atemu let out a petty groan.

“I'll pay you money,” he tried.

“I own a multimillion-dollar corporation. I have no need for your _money.”_

Atemu cursed and raised his head, leaning forward and burying his face into his hands.

“You're just mad because I pointed out your crush on that blonde, even though he's too _dense_ to understand,” he said sourly, rubbing at his eyes and resting his chin in his hand.

“I do not have a _crush_ on anyone,” Kaiba scoffed, “Much less a stupid, useless, obnoxiously loud –”

“Cute,” Atemu slipped in slyly.

“– nice try. Fuck off. That mutt's an idiot.” Kaiba crossed his arms and turned his head away. Atemu smirked to himself and knew that he had won.

“Hi, um, Atemu?”

Atemu looked up. A girl stood next to his desk, a coy smile on her lips. She blushed when Atemu met her blue eyes and turned her head away slightly, brown shoulder-length locks swinging across her face. She wrung her hands until she forced them apart, placing them behind her back where, Atemu suspected, she would continue to fidget with them.

“Yeah?”

The girl smiled and straightened her back as she turned her head back to face Atemu fully.

“I noticed you've been eating in the cafeteria lately and I was wondering,” she hesitated before plunging ahead, “I was wondering if we could eat lunch together. I could join you tomorrow, or you could join me. Whichever!”

Atemu struggled to place a name on this girl's face.

“What's your name again?” he asked, giving up on trying to remember.

The girl flushed in embarrassment, biting her lip as she tried not to look hurt.

“Anzu Mazaki,” she whispered.

Atemu did not recognize the name at all.

“Right, Mazaki. Look, I don't want to hurt your feelings –”

“Oh, don't worry! I understand,” she said with a smile that did not reach her hurt, cerulean eyes. Atemu was going to leave it at that when another girl, one who snorted loudly and unattractively, began laughing. She was surrounded by a gaggle of girls, all who tittered alongside her. The sound was mocking and horrible; Anzu flushed a deep shade of red, eyes downcast, hands shaking at her side.

“Like Atemu would be interested in such a poor excuse of a woman,” the girl gossiped loudly to her pawns as she twirled a black pigtail around her finger. She made a grand gesture of fixing her shirt, conscious of the way it made her breasts bounce. “It takes a _real_ woman to capture his attention,” she gushed, “not to point fingers, but like _me,_ _Vivian Wong_ _.”_ And she did point to herself, her smile wide and satisfied.

On the other side of the classroom, Melvin and Bakura began to guffaw. Atemu rolled his eyes at them; his cousin and his friend were children and he was the unfortunate bastard stuck with them. Turning back to Anzu, who looked close to tears, Atemu sent out a prayer to every god who could hear him that what he was about to do would not come back to bite him in the ass.

“You didn't let me finish, Mazaki,” he spoke up, making sure his voice was loud enough to be heard by the giggling group of girls. “I meant to say that my table tends to get a bit full during lunch, so it wouldn't be prudent for me to ask you to sit there. I was hoping that wouldn't hurt your feelings and would like to request joining you instead.” Atemu felt a dark part of himself smirk in glee when the group of harpies became abruptly silent. Even Melvin and Bakura had stopped chuckling. Atemu suspected they were shocked at his unusual attitude. He would have been alarmed at his act of kindness as well if it were not for the small part of him that despised unjustified cruelty.

Understanding crossed Anzu's face and she nodded, giving him a thankful smile.

“Okay,” she said, “that sounds good to me. See you then!” She turned and walked away to her table with her pride intact and Atemu almost groaned when the cruel girl with black hair, _Vivian,_ let out an indignant huff.

“Atemu, there's no need to take pity on that unfortunate girl –”

“It's not pity if I'm genuinely interested,” he answered to renewed chuckles from the peanut gallery.

“But, Atemu –”

“Stop being so familiar with me. I don't even know who you are,” he raised his voice in pure irritation and the girl quietly took her seat, chagrined. The ladies around her dispersed at that, eager to disassociate themselves from the humbled girl.

“Bit harsh,” muttered Kaiba bemusedly.

“I don't tolerate people who are full of shit,” Atemu responded gruffly.

“Ah, ever the knight in shining armor,” Kaiba said sarcastically.

“Whatever happened to your cardinal rule of ignoring everyone around you?” Atemu snapped. Kaiba only shrugged at him, not bothering to reply.

Just then, the chemistry teacher entered the classroom, her white lab coat already on, protective goggles hanging from her neck. She waved to her attire.

“Guess what we're doing today!” she smiled at her students cheerfully, ignoring Atemu's groan as he let his forehead meet the desk in a resounding thud. The teacher cast a wary glance towards Melvin who let out an excited squeal. She gave the class a brief overview of the purpose of the experiment they were to conduct before explaining the experiment itself. After she had passed out the sheets detailing what they would need and were to do, she let her students begin, but not without a hefty warning towards Melvin and Bakura as they made a hasty run for the closet at the front of the class.

Halfway through the silent experiment, Atemu spoke.

“Am I really a bad guy?”

Kaiba paused in his measuring, turning to find that Atemu was indeed speaking to him.

“Are you seriously talking to me like I'm your friend?”

“You’re not my friend, which is _exactly_ why I'm asking you,” said Atemu.

Kaiba frowned and finished measuring the white powder before adding it into the glass beaker. He did not speak for a long while. Atemu almost figured that Kaiba was going to ignore him and he was about to repeat his question more _forcefully,_ when Kaiba finally sighed.

“Then as someone who _isn't_ your friend, I'd like to point out that you're a manipulative creep who habitually steals, threatens others, and occasionally puts students into hospitals.”

At Atemu's frown, he smirked.

“Oh, I'm _sorry,_ was I not supposed to mention your extracurricular activities? Face it, you're a menace to society.”

Despite his cocky words, Kaiba braced himself for Atemu's explosion. He was not afraid of the teen, but he would not let Atemu catch him unawares either. The last thing Seto Kaiba expected was for Atemu to let out a long suffering sigh and drop his head head to the desk, causing their instruments to rattle on the table.

“No _wonder_ he doesn't like me,” said Atemu pathetically, hands buried into his hair as he continued to moan like a petulant child.

Kaiba stared at Atemu, unnerved by his actions. He looked to the beaker in his hand and placed it on the table, fearing that he would drop it from pure disbelief.

“Did you really not know what a terrible person you are?” he asked skeptically.

Atemu only continued to sigh.

“Can you have your freakout later? You know, when I'm _not_ around? Hand me the test tube.” Atemu slapped his hand around the desk, much to Kaiba's vexation and grabbed the entire rack the test tube rested in, flicking his wrist to hand it over. He almost spilled the contents, and Kaiba took it quickly to avoid an accident. He was exasperated and annoyed by the pitiable mess that was Atemu Goutei. “You're acting like a child. If you're so invested in what someone thinks of you, you could just stop being an insufferable asshole and start being a so-called _good person._ Why don't you start with doing _your_ part in this experiment!”

Atemu shot up so fast that Kaiba had only a second to register Atemu's manic grin before being slapped painfully on the arm.

“That's brilliant, Kaiba!” Atemu gripped his shoulder and beamed at him. “I should have never doubted your genius!”

Kaiba ripped his shoulder from Atemu's touch, hoping this would be the last of Atemu's weirdness.

“Don't touch me,” he hissed, but the threat did not seem to penetrate that smile.

Just then there was a small explosion, a shattering of glass, and smoke filled the room, followed by a cry of triumph and several screams. The fire alarm instantly went off with a ringing wail and the students began to rush to the door as the instructor let out a displeased yell of, “How!? This was supposed to be a _safe_ experiment!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha, fuck you, Kaiba.
> 
> (Also, if my fic is trash, ygo is trash, and _I_ am trash, does that make me trash cubed)
> 
> King Garbage is out. Time to go back to my throne for hibernation. My throne is a bed. I own this throne. I made it myself with my trash fics. Be kind to King Garbage and tell her you like her trash (she'll be a very grateful King Garbage).


	8. Mr. Nice Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melvin and Bakura both agree that Atemu is off his rocker, but Atemu, of course, disagrees. With something to prove, Atemu seeks Yuugi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy the new chapter for Misfits In Love.

On his way to his final class, Atemu found his path blocked by Anzu. The fire chief had finally declared the school safe to enter. There had been no actual fire, but both Bakura and Melvin had received three detentions each, phone calls to home, and a tongue lashing from the fire chief about the danger of tampering with equipment and messing about with hazardous chemicals. The chief had promised them that the next time they put fellow student lives in danger, he would have them prosecuted by the full extent of the law.

As he waited for Anzu to speak, Atemu tilted his head, popping his neck and ridding himself of a kink that had bothered him for the past hour. The girl looked uncertain, sheepish. She kept glancing around as though expecting someone to come and scold her.

“Atemu, I wanted to thank you,” she finally said, her voice subdued, “for earlier. For sticking your neck out when those horrid hyenas were making fun of me.”

“I'm not a complete asshole. It's whatever,” Atemu shrugged, uncomfortable with her sincerity. He was not used to being thanked. He was used to being cursed and feared. Anzu's words were a first for him and he did not like how they made him squirm.

“No, you did a good thing. I had heard you … well, nothing nice, so it caught me off guard when you stuck up for me,” she smiled. “I also wanted to tell you that you don't have to eat with me tomorrow. I'd rather you ate with me because you actually wanted to and not because you felt bad for me.”

Atemu could feel himself start to fidget. He could see in her face that she wanted him to reassure her that he _wanted_ to eat with her. That it had not been pity. But Atemu could not help her since the offer had been only out of a weird sense of revenge against the other girls. He did not want to continue this conversation. He had given her what she wanted, however backwards it had happened, so why was she tossing it aside?

“Suit yourself. However, you should consider how it'll look to those other girls when you're not having lunch with me tomorrow.”

He saw Anzu's hesitation then. She bit her lip, her brow creasing. She implored him with her eyes and finally sighed.

“If you really don't mind –”

“If I did, I wouldn't have offered in the first place,” he told her before walking away. He was done with the topic. He did not want to talk about it anymore. Atemu heard Anzu call a goodbye, but he did not return it. He would not be sitting with Yuugi tomorrow. That thought bothered him more than Anzu's gratitude.

 _Yuugi._ That sweet face came to mind and Atemu could only smile to himself. Just thinking of the kind-faced Yuugi Mutou brought happy flutters to his heart. He knew then that he was a goner for the boy. He sighed, grateful when he reached his final classroom without further incident. After a brief glance around, he took the seat beside a grumpy-looking Melvin.

“Be glad you're not suspended,” Atemu said.

Melvin turned to give him a snide look.

“She should know better than to give me a hot plate and leave me unsupervised. So I messed with it a little bit,” Melvin shrugged.

“You know Ishizu is going to kill you,” Atemu replied and Melvin chuckled.

“I'd love to see her try to strangle me from Egypt,” Melvin said with a smirk, “Anyway, it's not my fault I have a healthy appetite for the pursuit of knowledge.”

“Is that what you're calling it?” Atemu asked under his breath. The teacher was calling roll. Melvin called out an affirmative to his name and Atemu followed soon after for his own. “And you know she can just call my mom to strangle you for her. Anyway, thanks to you and Bakura, we no longer get to use hot plates. You have effectively ruined future class projects.”

“She won't. And it's not like you really did them anyway,” Melvin snorted, “you just order Bakura around until it's done. By the way, what the hell was that with that brunette?” Melvin turned his head to give Atemu a hard calculating look and Atemu shrugged.

“I'm becoming a better person,” he mumbled as he leaned forward, placing his chin on his palm.

Melvin's face contorted in confusion and he huffed in disbelief.

“Why would you want to do that?” he asked.

“Since there is only a little time before the final bell, I will not bother with today's lesson,” the teacher said. Around the classroom, the students whooped in joy at the announcement. “Which means that tomorrow, you get _twice_ the knowledge,” she finished, her voice filled with malice. The students groaned and she smirked before settling into the chair at her desk.

“You may study until the end of class or speak _quietly_ amongst yourselves.”

Atemu narrowed his eyes at the teacher. This one enjoyed working her students' noses into the grindstone. He knew for certain that tomorrow would be hell for the rest of the class.

“Again, I ask you, cousin, why the hell would you do that?”

Atemu turned to Melvin. How could Melvin not see it?

“Isn't it obvious?” he asked his cousin.

“Isn't it obvious,” Melvin mimicked him with a grating high-pitched voice and Atemu crossed his arms, wondering if he could get away with punching Melvin in the face.

“I'm doing it for Yuugi,” he muttered. Better to get it over with than to risk getting suspended.

Melvin stared at Atemu for a long time, eyes wide with horror. He opened his mouth to speak, his lips flapping without words. But after several seconds, no words left him and he frowned, turning to face the front of the class in contemplation.

Atemu cherished the silence.

After a few minutes, Melvin turned back to Atemu, took a deep breath, and said, “You've only known him for like two days. You don't know anything _about_ him.”

“Three days,” he corrected, “and I don't care,” Atemu continued stubbornly. He did not need Melvin's judgment. He did not need to be told what he already knew.

“Atemu, _you're_ the reasonable one! What the hell's a matter with you? You're going to change your entire personality because of some brat you just met –”

“Well, maybe it's time for a change and _don't_ fucking call him a brat,” Atemu hissed, his knuckles white as he clenched the desk in an effort to not leap at Melvin and shove his face through the floor.

“Okay, my bad, but do you realize you want to disembowel me because of a stranger? Because _that’s_ your murder face and _I'm_ your cousin and Yuugi's a _stranger.”_

“You know you're fucking up when _Melvin_ is being the voice of reason.”

Sometime during Melvin's argument, Bakura had wandered over, taking a seat in front of Atemu's cousin and wisely keeping distance from Atemu himself. He was still shaken from Atemu's reaction during lunch. He had threatened Bakura before and Bakura was used to it. Rarely a week passed when Atemu did not threaten to stuff him in a meat grinder or maim him in some other creative way. But they had always been halfhearted, empty warnings. Never had Atemu actually meant it like he had during lunch. Never had Atemu looked at him like he had desired nothing more than to rip his face off.

“See? Bakura gets it,” said Melvin pointedly, “and in case you forgot, you almost took his kidneys and ate them during lunch.”

Atemu scoffed, staring hard at his desk.

“I didn't hurt him –”

“But you _so_ wanted to, pharaoh. All because I raised my voice a little at your _precious_ flower,” Bakura spat. He was still sore about it. He suspected he would be for a while. Atemu had genuinely scared him. Not that he would ever admit it to his friend. He did not need Atemu or even Melvin to know that he was scared of them. He thought back to the escaped convict that had gone up in flames and shuddered. He definitely had enough reason to be afraid.

“It's not Yuugi's fault you're an emotionally-constipated ass who can't admit to himself that he's in love with Malik,” Atemu snapped, fixing Bakura with an annoyed glare.

Bakura bristled and stood, hands clenched at his sides to refrain from striking out at Atemu.

“I am not in love with that idiot!”

“Mr. Bakura!” cried the teacher, “You will speak quietly in my classroom or I will give you a detention you will _never_ forget! Now sit back down and lower your voice! Or I could always find _something_ for you to do.” Mrs. Hukui was standing at her desk, hands at her hips, glaring at Bakura across the classroom until the white-haired boy sat back down, head lowered moodily. Atemu was smirking meanly at him, eyes glinting with contempt.

Melvin giggled.

“That's stupid, pharaoh. Of course Bakura isn't in love with my baby brother. He wants to screw him, not love him. I don't think little Bakura is even _capable_ of love.”

Atemu rolled his eyes so hard at his sniggering cousin that he could have sworn he saw brain. Sometimes he wondered if Melvin was in denial, or just plain stupid.

* * *

“Gangway!”

Atemu quickly made his way to the front of the school. Classes had ended and he did not want to miss Yuugi before he left. He dodged people, taking care not to shove anyone. He was determined to be a good person even if he had to kill someone – er, himself, to achieve this goal. Fortunately, he did not have to dodge very hard since the students quickly moved out of his way when they saw him coming. He heard several kids call out apologies for being a nuisance and he ignored them. They did not matter right now.

“Move!” he shouted.

Right now, all that mattered was that he found Yuugi before the boy left. And he would be lucky if he did since several students were taking up the corridor, chatting happily back and forth without a care in the world.

“Could you walk any slower!” Atemu growled and the students dispersed at the sound of his voice. He rushed down the hall and reached the stairs, taking care not to push people even as impatient as he was. He supposed he could always talk to Yuugi tomorrow, but Atemu did not want to wait.

His wish came true when he arrived at the entrance and found Yuugi slipping on his shoes. The boy was just finishing up his shoe swap, kicking at the ground to settle his foot comfortably.

“Mutou!” Atemu called and Yuugi looked up, surprised to see Atemu sprinting towards him. Yuugi cast a calculating glance at the entrance to the school and Atemu quickened his pace. “Wait!” he held up a hand and Yuugi leaned against the lockers reluctantly, patiently waiting as Atemu came to a halt before him. He looked at Atemu suspiciously and a little nervously, quiet as Atemu tried to catch his breath. The redhead was doubled over, panting with his hands on his knees. Having had to sprint down several flights of stairs to get down to the lockers so quickly had cost him.

Straightening, Atemu placed a hand at the stitch in his side and the other at his chest to calm his overexcited heart. He could not completely blame the running for the rapids that was the blood in his veins since the very thought of Yuugi sent his heart racing. Atemu struggled to clear his throat, his breath still wheezing.

“I need to talk to you,” he said feebly. But as he gazed upon the vision that was Yuugi, Atemu drew a blank.

“Alright,” said Yuugi, eyes now looking anywhere but at him. Yuugi settled for staring at his midsection and Atemu was semi-grateful that those dazzling orbs were not looking directly at him. He feared if Yuugi did look him straight in the eye that he would become a puddle on the floor. Such influence those eyes held over him that Atemu already did everything Yuugi asked. He had stopped taking food from other kids because of him; he had even started getting his own lunch after Yuugi's small confrontation. He just hoped the boy had not realized that yet.

“What did you want to talk about?” Yuugi asked, tapping the toe of his foot on the tile, moving his gaze to the ground. He shifted away as a student came around and fiddled with a locker next to Yuugi's head.

“Uh,” said Atemu eloquently as the students around them retrieved their shoes, laughing and throwing goodbyes to their friends. Everyone around them was happy to head home, to have fun after a long day of learning. Atemu took a deep breath, “I just, um, wanted to let you know that I am a terrible person.”

“I already know that,” Yuugi said plainly and Atemu had to pretend like his words did not stab him in the heart, “That's kind of why I told you that you scare me.”

“I know, I'm not done,” Atemu reached out to place a hand on Yuugi's shoulder, but gave up halfway, letting his hand drop to his side when Yuugi tensed at the motion. He sighed silently, knowing that he had his work cut out for him. It would not be easy to redeem himself in Yuugi's eyes, but Atemu knew he had to try with everything he had. He would lay out all of his cards. He said, “I wanted to apologize for what happened with Bakura –”

“You did that already.”

“– and for anything else that I've done or that you may have heard about me,” Atemu continued, “and I wanted to let you know that I'm turning over a new leaf.”

Yuugi looked up, mulberry eyes curious. Atemu's stomach flipped and he gulped down the happy sigh that threatened to leave him breathless. The student fiddling in the locker next to Yuugi casually looked at Yuugi and at Atemu, doing a double-take when he realized it was Atemu and hurried through his shoe-swap. Atemu almost rolled his eyes.

“A new leaf?” The doubt in Yuugi's voice physically hurt Atemu and he could not help rub the area over his heart to try to soothe the ache. “Why are you telling me this?”

Atemu pondered the question carefully. He could tell Yuugi the truth, that it was because he was absolutely smitten with him or maybe something lighter along those lines so that it would not cause Yuugi to run screaming for the hills. Atemu had only known him for a short while, but even then … his gaze softened the more he looked at Yuugi. The first time he had laid eyes on him, something had stirred in Atemu's hardened heart. He had fallen on the spot. How could he not? Yuugi was stunning.

And when Yuugi had stood up to him for a kid he did not even know, Atemu's heart had warmed. He had known instantly when Yuugi had taken the kid's money back from his hand that the boy was worth his absolute attention. It was a gut feeling that pressed Atemu into believing that Yuugi's beauty ran much further than skin-deep.

“I'm telling you this,” Atemu hedged, “because,” he scratched at his cheek, wishing he had planned further than “because”. How exactly did one express a desire to have someone so utterly that it ached like a missing piece to their soul? Atemu acknowledged that his powerful feelings should have scared him, but the intense emotions themselves had not left enough room for him to care.

“Because?” Yuugi drew out the word as Atemu had fallen silent, a coral blush seeping into his tan cheeks. Yuugi felt a blush emerge on his own in reaction and he quickly looked away to hide his embarrassment.

A giggle and a shushing noise drew Atemu's attention from his dilemma and he glanced around to see a grinning Malik being pulled out of sight by pale hands. Atemu inwardly cursed at being spied on. Of course he could not have the quiet, unobserved moment he had been looking for to declare his feelings. With his cousins and the Bakura brothers in his life, that had been too much to ask for. Atemu looked back to Yuugi to see the boy slap a palm to his forehead and groan.

“If you saw them, please ignore them,” pleaded Yuugi, “You were saying?”

Ignoring that their semi-private moment now had an audience and with a burst of courage, Atemu finished his sentence.

“I'm telling you because I really like you and I want to ask you out on a date, and to date you, I know I need to make an effort to be a good person.” He paused before adding, “If you say no, I'll still try to be a good person and maybe eventually … you wouldn't mind being my … friend.”

Atemu flinched at how needy he sounded, but he knew it was all true. If he could not have Yuugi as his boyfriend, he would settle for being his friend. As long as he was near Yuugi, Atemu knew he could be happy. But even if he were content to just be Yuugi's friend, Atemu still held his breath, heart beating loudly in his ears.

Two identical squeals sprang up on the other side of the lockers, disrupting anything Yuugi would have said and Atemu swore he would make Malik and Ryou pay for ruining such an important moment in his life.

“Bug off!” he yelled at the lockers and the two eavesdroppers instantly started hushing each other.

“Why are we shushing?”

Atemu wanted to slam his head into a locker when he heard Melvin's voice excitedly whispering to the two snoopers. Before he could call out how he would rip their hearts out for listening in, a gentle hand took his own and began to lead him away. His own heart lodged in his throat then, staring at the back of Yuugi's head as the boy took them to the next aisle, pausing and turning without dropping his hand. It was only then that Atemu realized how sweaty his hands had become.

He hoped Yuugi did not mention it because he was mortified enough as it was.

“Sorry about them. I think they're invested,” Yuugi mumbled, his other hand coming up to run through his bangs nervously, his short fingers catching in the knots.

Any anger Atemu had felt for Malik and Ryou had vanished as soon as Yuugi had taken his hand, but he did not mention it.

“Um, to be honest,” Yuugi started, dropping his hold on Atemu's hand; Atemu's gut clenched in dread, “I do like you, Atemu, but...” Atemu almost whimpered. “But you don't even know me. It's been three days since I came to this school –”

“But that's what dating's for! It's to get to know one another,” Atemu grinned encouragingly and Yuugi turned his head away to hide his own small smile. “I promise to be on my best behavior and if you don't like me after a date, you can tell me to fu – to, uh, to _buzz_ off and I will.” He knew he was begging. Atemu could hear it in his voice. But as he looked at Yuugi, he found he did not care. If need be, he would get down on his knees and start to plead. Something at the back of his mind warned him about the terrible idea of becoming involved with someone who could undo him with a glance, but he pushed that small voice into a box and locked it up.

He would happily sit and roll over for this boy if Yuugi commanded it. He would even fetch.

Yuugi searched his face for some sign, nibbling his bottom lip in thought. He looked preoccupied, like a dozen thoughts were racing in his mind. Atemu could only imagine what Yuugi was thinking. He presumed most of his reservations were about how insane it would be to accept. But as Yuugi chewed on his lip, Atemu grew increasingly distracted by his desire to nibble on it as well. However, he forced himself to behave. There would be plenty of time for that later if Yuugi, for some ludicrous reason, accepted his feelings.

“Do you mean it?” Yuugi suddenly asked.

“Mean what?” Atemu asked, confused.

“Do you really want to be a better person?” Yuugi clarified and Atemu nodded at once.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, “I want to be a good guy.”

“Okay,” Yuugi nodded and Atemu almost did not believe his ears, “I'll give you a chance to prove yourself. Let's have a date.”

“YES!”

Yuugi jumped when Atemu threw his fist in the air, obviously happy with his answer. He gaped and Atemu froze before turning wide eyes onto Yuugi, face flushing. Around them, stragglers turned to stare in shock.

“Um,” Atemu cleared his throat awkwardly and looked down at his feet, “yeah.”

A spasm rippled across Yuugi's face and then he was laughing, shaking his head as Atemu hunched his shoulders in shame.

“I'm s-so sorry for laughing,” Yuugi said, eyes shining, “I just didn't expect that. I'm sorry.” He did not look sorry, but even if he did not mean it, Atemu would forgive him anyway. He chuckled at his own expense and shrugged.

“It's okay,” he said and Yuugi gave him a timid smile. Atemu melted a little at the sight.

“So about that date,” Yuugi began, unsure, “what were you planning?”

“Hm?” he asked, enchanted by Yuugi's cute smile. Abruptly, Yuugi chuckled and Atemu's heart fluttered at the sound.

“I said, what about that date?” Atemu blinked and forced himself to focus.

“Right, date,” he muttered, a little thrown with the suddenness of it all, “now?”

“Now's okay for me. I just need to let my mom know that I'll be home later than usual.” Yuugi hesitated before a sheepish grin crossed his lips. “Can I borrow your phone to call her?”

Atemu fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocked the screen, and handed it over without hesitation. Yuugi began to dial until he looked down at Atemu's feet. He was still wearing his school shoes. He looked up at Atemu and pointed to his shoes.

“Are you going to take those?”

Atemu looked down at his shoes and cursed under his breath. He turned and took two steps before turning back around and motioning to Yuugi.

“Wait here,” he said, “don't go anywhere, I'll be quick!” he rushed off with only one backward glance to the amused Yuugi Mutou.

Atemu hurried through his change, anxious that Yuugi would change his mind and bolt. He stumbled twice in his haste, muttering profanities at his clumsiness, and continued to curse when his foot stubbornly refused to enter his boot. He rapidly made his way back when he was done to see Yuugi still on the phone, his back to Atemu.

“It's … he's not a girl, mom,” Yuugi was saying, “Yes, he's a guy.” The boy let out a breath. _“Yes,_ mom,” he insisted. Atemu frowned, unsure if he should announce his presence or not. “I didn't know I _was_ _._ It just sorta happened, I guess?” Yuugi turned and jumped in surprise at the sight of Atemu. “Yeah, okay. Of course I'll be safe,” he mumbled as Atemu stared at him. Yuugi gave him a wan smile and Atemu tried to look as nonthreatening as he could. “I'm glad to hear that mom. I gotta go. He's waiting.”

Atemu held up his hands and shrugged. It was okay with him if Yuugi took an _hour_ to talk to his mother. Atemu would not rush him. For Yuugi, he would wait forever.

“Love you too, mom. Bye,” Yuugi hung up and held out the phone. Atemu took it and put it away giving it a brief glance to make sure the call had been ended.

“All good?” he asked and Yuugi nodded.

“I think so,” he said uncertainly, “I'm sure the fact that I'm going out with a guy will hit her hard later when I get home.”

Atemu frowned, confused.

“Did you just come out to your mom over the _phone?”_

“Yep!” Yuugi nodded, a cheeky smile sprouting on his lips.

Atemu stared at him for a moment in disbelief. He had not known Yuugi was still in the closet. He had only hoped for the best when he vomited his feelings all over the poor boy. His next question was hesitant.

“But … you were gay already, right?”

Yuugi looked pensive as he shook his head.

Atemu felt full of dumb luck all of a sudden.

“I'm actually not sure,” Yuugi said with a shrug, “I've never been on a date before to find out.”

Atemu decided to leave it at that. Knowing his date was just a fluke was too much for him to handle at the moment. Though it did warm him to know Yuugi was just as inexperienced as him.

“You ready then?” he asked and Yuugi nodded. Atemu's heart leapt in his chest and he grinned. He was beyond excited. He and Yuugi would be going on a date!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to use the word "gangway". I also wanted to use "Make a hole!" but then you guys would have realized that I watched too many episodes of NCIS. All for nothing, I might add. Ziva left and I was so heartbroken, but this isn't about the horrible vacancy left in my heart, so let's move on.
> 
> Another MIL chapter has come to an end. Melvin and Bakura are trying to make Atemu see reason, but Atemu is quite determined to be a "good guy" as he says. Yuugi has accepted a date with the terrible Atemu and if you ask why, he'll probably plead temporary insanity.
> 
> Tune in next chapter to see what exactly happens on this "date".
> 
> ***edit***
> 
> I realize that I honestly should have added Mrs. Mutou's part of the conversation, but I was far too lazy. I'm so sorry. Here's basically what happened. Please excuse the lateness of it.
> 
> When Yuugi's mother asked, “Who is she?” Yuugi, realizing that he did not want to lie to his mother, of course said, “It's ... he's not a girl, mom.”  
> “He's a boy?” Mrs. Mutou asked, shocked.  
> “Yes, he's a guy.”  
> “Are you sure?” she pressed.  
>  _“Yes,_ mom.”  
>  “Since when are you gay?” Mrs. Mutou asked, astonished.  
> “I didn't know I _was._ It just sorta happened, I guess?”  
>  “Well,” it was obvious she was a little disconcerted by the information, “...please be safe, Yuugi.”  
> “Yeah, okay. Of course I'll be safe,” Yuugi mumbled.  
> “I want you to know that I don't feel any different about you,” Mrs. Mutou said.  
> “I'm glad to hear that mom. I gotta go. He's waiting.”  
> “I love you very much, son,” she whispered.  
> “Love you too, mom. Bye.”


	9. The Date - Nervous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuugi agreed to a date with Atemu. Oh, boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all should consider yourselves lucky that I managed to post this. Laziness, internet, and a certain picture were against me in the posting of this chapter. Despite those three things, I got my head on straight and now you can enjoy the beginning of Yuugi and Atemu's date.
> 
> Couple of **warnings** in this chapter: Atemu and Yuugi have pervy thoughts and old people are used in disturbing ways.

 

Only a few students stood outside the entrance as Atemu and Yuugi passed. They turned to stare at Atemu, but he did not mind it. He was used to the looks. But as they walked, Yuugi shifted closer to him, and it occurred to Atemu that Yuugi was not used to such attention. He nervously reached out and lightly placed his arm across Yuugi's back, minding the school bag, and put his hand on Yuugi's shoulder, trying for comfort.

Yuugi looked up at him with something like relief, a pink blush in place, but he did not move away and Atemu's heart flipped for joy into his throat. He was doing something right. Atemu forced his hand to stay light and friendly on Yuugi's shoulder. There was an odd influx of emotions and desires in his stomach that were entirely new to Atemu. He just wanted to pull Yuugi against him and _do_ things. Touch him. Undress him. Ravish him. Atemu gulped, his throat dry, his cheeks pink. It was a good thing Yuugi could not read his mind. He was sure his unusually perverted thoughts would chase Yuugi away.

“So, where are we going anyway?”

Atemu coughed uncomfortably and cleared his throat. He made his best effort to clear his mind of the thoughts. He wanted to get to know Yuugi before he crossed those type of personal boundaries. And if he was pushing the thought of having a deeper connection before anything to hide his insecurity about how he would perform, well, no one else needed to know that but himself.

Regardless of his worries, Atemu _did_ want his relationship with Yuugi to mean something. He wanted more than a hot romp in the sack; mostly, he wanted to make sure Yuugi knew that. He would take it slow and prove to Yuugi that he was worth it. That he was not all pretty words and he really could change for the better. It was only with his change that he could hope to be worthy of Yuugi's attention, after all. He knew the boy would not accept him otherwise. Atemu looked at Yuugi's expectant face and he inwardly sighed. All this time, after so many dark years, all he had needed was motivation.

Yuugi smiled at him, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Yuugi Mutou _was_ that motivation. Atemu knew he could do anything as long as he had those smiles.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm?”

Atemu could listen to Yuugi's light voice all day.

Yuugi stopped walking and Atemu stopped with him, hand falling from his shoulder at the abrupt lack of movement. The uneasy crease on Yuugi's forehead made Atemu want to reach up and smooth it out. He did not like Yuugi frowning. It made him feel like he was doing something wrong. Perhaps he had already screwed up; he had to figure out what he had done wrong. He needed to fix it.

“Is something wrong?” Atemu voiced his concern, only for Yuugi to give him a bemused look.

“That's what I just asked you,” he said.

Atemu faltered. He had been so absorbed in thought, that he had not heard Yuugi speaking.

“I'm on a date with you. Of course I'm okay,” Atemu told him, “I was just … thinking.”

“Thinking? What about?” Yuugi questioned curiously.

“You,” was Atemu's simple answer. He felt a little silly admitting it, but it was the truth. Though the feeling drained away at the sight of a blush on those cheeks.

“Oh,” said Yuugi, looking pleasantly surprised. His lips quirked up and he looked away from Atemu's honest gaze. “What about me?” he asked, trying his best not to show just how delighted the admission had made him. Yuugi looked up when he felt he had sufficient control of his face.

Atemu was looking down at him fondly, eyes soft, lips pulling upwards at the edges. It was the same smitten expression he had worn for the last several minutes and it had yet to come off. Yuugi was still not used to being stared at like that. He was used to sneers over his short stature, snide glances towards his round, child-like face. Yuugi had been teased and bullied because he disliked violence and because he had not grown like his peers. In their eyes, he was but a child and seen so weak and useless. He did not put up a fight; he was an easy target. It had not helped that Yuugi never liked to join the other boys when they asked him to play sports.

“Well,” Atemu said, face reddening as a sheepish smile overtook his lips, “um, I was thinking that you're … quite attractive.”

_Attractive?_

Yuugi felt his entire face heat up at the compliment. He had never been called attractive before. He had not thought he was even within range of the word. Throughout his short life, Yuugi had never turned a single head. He had been cast aside by girls he had crushed on, always thought of as a friend only. Yet here was Atemu, calling him _attractive._ Yuugi had never felt so flustered. Not even when he watched his first adult film.

“You think I'm a-attractive?”

Using his index finger, Atemu lifted Yuugi's chin. Tilting his head down, he studied Yuugi. He took in the gently upturned nose, the wide plum-colored eyes that burned him where they landed. The full cheeks Atemu wished to press his hands against to kiss him fully on those delicious-looking lips. The way the bottom lip was fuller than the top gave the eternal impression of a pout and Atemu ached to sink his teeth into the tempting flesh. He wondered what kind of noises Yuugi would make if he did that. Atemu licked his lips at the thought of kissing Yuugi and forced his eyes to roam away from temptation.

Atemu's expression changed then, suddenly serious and intense and Yuugi's eyes widened, a pleasing tingle shooting up his spine. With a sharp need to feel Yuugi against him, Atemu stepped as close as he could, only barely stopping himself from pulling the other flush against him. At the proximity, Yuugi began to feel hot from his chest to his thighs, though his whole being felt alive with need. His breath left him when Atemu spoke, his breath caressing his lips.

“You're the most tantalizing and beautiful person I've ever seen in my life,” Atemu whispered, his rich voice unexpectedly low and yearning.

Yuugi inhaled sharply and shivered despite feeling warmer than ever, unable to tear himself away from Atemu's scorching gaze. He bit his bottom lip in an effort to distract himself from the sudden burning in his veins and Atemu's smouldering red gaze zeroed in on the movement. For a brief moment, Yuugi forgot how to breathe. He felt like a gazelle in the frozen second it discovers the large cat hiding in the tall, dry grass. Atemu leaned in almost imperceptibly and Yuugi's breath hitched. He waited, feeling in his gut, that Atemu would close the gap and he would be devoured.

But as Yuugi began to close his eyes, Atemu dropped his hand. He stepped away and Yuugi shivered again, feeling strangely cold with the absence of that warm body. He felt empty and lonely and he almost stepped forward to envelop himself in that heavy presence once more. He let out a breathy sigh of regret and Atemu's brow scrunched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed dryly. The older teen cleared his throat.

“We should...” he trailed off, his voice rough with restraint.

Yuugi nodded for lack of a better response. He did not trust himself to speak, afraid that the whimper he had confined in his mouth would escape and vocalize his wish.

With great effort, both teens began to walk, the silence between them awash with tension. Almost ten minutes passed before either of them said a word.

“So,” Atemu cleared his head with a deep inhale, “you hungry?”

They were approaching the city plaza in the heart of downtown Domino City, an intersection filled with restaurants, fast food and casual dining alike. Although school had let out not so long ago, the plaza was filled with teenagers, most in their school uniforms. There were a few children with their parents, the excited tykes pressing their cute, round faces into various windows.

“Mm,” Yuugi glanced about, grinning when he spotted a choice place. “Burger World?” he asked hopefully. Beside him, Atemu seemed to stiffen at the suggestion, his previously relaxed stance propped straight as a pole. Yuugi opened his mouth to retract his words at the other's discomfort, but Atemu gave him a winsome smile. Yuugi swooned the slightest bit. There was no way he could possibly maintain a level head when a person as attractive as Atemu was smiling at him that way.

“Anything you wish,” Atemu said.

Together, they made their way down one of the branching streets. Atemu paused only for a moment. The way he appeared to steel himself before the restaurant made Yuugi want to drag him elsewhere. He did not want to cause Atemu unnecessary suffering. He could always choose another place to dine. He did not _have_ to have burgers today.

“Atemu,” Yuugi said, “it's okay if you'd rather –”

“After you, little one,” Atemu said. He brushed his comment away with a disarming smile as soon as it had come and Yuugi found himself led past the doors and towards an empty booth next to the window before a second protest could even form in his thoughts.

They sat across each other, Atemu taking one of the menus from the small rack at the end of the table. Yuugi, who had been there enough to memorize his order, shifted the backpack off his shoulders and to the side. Turning his gaze towards the glass, he took in the passerby before focusing on Atemu. The other was smiling too hard. The corners of his eyes strained, a bead of sweat making its way down his temple. Yuugi found this peculiar as it was not hot out. The weather was actually quite pleasant, cool even. There was no reason for Atemu to be sweating.

And then it hit him. Blinking, Yuugi's mouth parted slightly in surprise. Atemu was _nervous._

“Yuugi!”

The familiar, happy sound distracted Yuugi from Atemu and he glanced around. A girl with pretty indigo eyes and long, light blue hair stood at the edge of the table. She held a paper pad in one hand, a pen in the other. Her smile faltered briefly as her eyes fell onto his face, undoubtedly focusing on the bruise before she forced it back on.

“Miho!” Yuugi smiled widely at the girl, earning himself a cute blush. Miho Nosaka was a waitress at Burger World. Because of the many times Yuugi dined there with his friends, Miho and he had become friends.

“It's been a while, Yuugi! The usual?” The girl smiled sweetly and Yuugi nodded quickly.

“It's good to see you again, Miho,” he told her and she gave him a wink, jotting down his order before turning to Atemu.

“And for you, sir – oh, my god, it's you!” the girl squeaked.

The little color in her fair skin drained away when her gaze fell upon Atemu. Her eyes widened in fear and she unconsciously took a step back, hands pulled close to her chest as though to shield herself.

Yuugi glanced between the two worriedly. He was not sure what was happening.

Atemu's eyes narrowed in a cold glare, jaw working as he clenched his teeth in annoyance. He recognized this girl. She had been there a year ago when _that_ happened. The girl looked downright terrified; of _course_ she recognized him. Across from him, Yuugi was bewildered by the change of mood. Atemu wanted to disappear. This was why he had not wanted to come into this stupid place. He vaguely wondered if the girl would run if he so much as moved in her direction. As it was, he did not want to ruin his date by satisfying his morbid curiosity.

Forcing a smile, which only made the girl move further away, Atemu spoke.

“Hello,” he said as pleasantly as he could muster, “I'd like the mushroom cheese and a vanilla shake.” He lifted the menu to tuck it back into its holder and gritted his teeth when the girl flinched. He frowned when the girl did not write down his order. “Did you get that?” he asked her. He did not need this girl ruining his date.

The girl nodded slowly, giving Yuugi a worried look before darting away. Atemu watched her rush to her fellow employees, whispering to them before hurrying off once more. The other waiters looked at him with frightened faces and Atemu looked back to Yuugi to prevent himself from doing something stupid. Like setting the building on fire so they had something to _actually_ fear. Nonetheless, he was not here to harass anyone. He was on a date!

Atemu felt a little sad when he noticed that Yuugi was not looking at him, but rather at the window, a pensive expression on his face. His small hands were playing with each other's fingers. Yuugi looked at him and quickly looked back outside, a blush smearing across his cheeks. Atemu relaxed at that. He was grateful that Yuugi had not asked about the waitress's strange behavior or the skittish employees sending them panicky glances.

As Atemu watched Yuugi, the tense atmosphere shifted. Atemu became aware that he was, in fact, with the boy who had stolen his affections with just a look. Yuugi was the person who made his stomach churn with nerves, his heart flutter with delight, and his blood burn with need. This trial excursion to prove to Yuugi that he was deserving of the time and energy it would take to date, would either make him or break him.

 _And, maybe,_ Atemu thought to himself, _just maybe Y_ _u_ _ugi will feel the same way._

Just then, Atemu felt himself grow hot in the face as a daydream entered his mind, one of Yuugi shyly batting his eyelashes and sending him warm smiles as they cuddled on Atemu's couch. He bit his lip at the thought of doing more on said couch. He imagined Yuugi pinned under his weight, hands wandering underneath their clothes. Atemu clearly recalled his dream from this morning. He recalled the touching, the undressing, the kissing, the licking. Abruptly, his entire body tingled and erupted in goosebumps. Clearing his throat, Atemu discreetly readjusted himself in his seat at the interested stirring in his pants.

_Think of the housekeeper naked, think of her naked, naked, wrinkled and saggy breasts … oh, thank god!_ Atemu breathed a sigh of relief when the thought killed his boner dead. Then he grimaced with a shudder of revulsion at the thought of his housekeeper naked. The old woman would surely kill him if she ever found out Atemu had thought of her that way. While strict, she was still kind to him and Atemu felt slightly guilty for using her in such a manner. Clasping his hands before him, he began twiddling his thumbs. 

The customers around them all ran lively conversations. Lovers giggled, friends laughed, family teased each other. Atemu realized with a jolt that they were the only table not talking. Instead of a light, happy atmosphere, the air around Atemu and Yuugi was painfully awkward. But despite the silence, Atemu had never felt happier than in that moment, sitting across from Yuugi on a very real date. A date that he thought would never happen. Atemu had been entirely ready to be shot down when he confessed. The exhilaration that had run through him when Yuugi had said yes had almost been overwhelmingly relieving.

“So this is awkward,” Yuugi said, turning to smile teasingly at him.

Atemu scratched at his cheek, tongue numb in his mouth. Dropping his hands to the table, he laid them flat to stop their fussing and frowned. Yuugi was waiting for him to speak, but for some reason, he could not. Yuugi tried an encouraging smile, and though it made Atemu's heart skip a beat, his tongue continued to lie uselessly just beyond his lips. 

“I find it really weird that you're so nervous,” Yuugi chuckled. He moved a hand forward, and Atemu thought for sure that Yuugi would take hold of his own clammy, trembling thing, but the movement was stopped by the arrival of their food.

Miho quickly emptied the tray onto the table, keeping a scared eye on Atemu.

Atemu gave the waitress a menacing glare for disrupting the moment and she retreated a couple of steps, mumbling apologies for the interruption and left. Yuugi was frowning disapprovingly and Atemu balked at his own hostility, guilt roiling in his gut. Disgusted with himself, he slumped slightly against the back of his seat and Yuugi sighed.

“I'm not making a very good impression, am I?” Atemu asked glumly.

“I can see that you're trying,” Yuugi said softly, “but you need to stop glaring at everything that moves. How else will I start believing that you're not all bad?”

Atemu nodded in understanding and ran his hands through his hair, frustrated with himself. He was here to prove a point, not to drive Yuugi further away!

“Okay, well, how about we talk about something … unless you wanted to continue sitting in awkward silence?” Yuugi laughed breathlessly and cleared his throat, hand coming up to play with his bangs.

Atemu realized then that it was a nervous habit of Yuugi's and he forced his lips apart and his tongue to work. He did not wish for Yuugi to be nervous around him.

“Uh, so, the weather's nice?” Atemu almost punched himself. _The weather,_ he thought furiously, _you're talking about the fucking weather. It's a wonder why people think you're smart, you dumbass._  Grabbing his wrapped burger, he distractedly began to unwrap it, a deep blush on his cheeks. Yuugi followed his lead with his own meal.

“Yes,” Yuugi said, laughter clear in his voice, “it's a nice day.” He was picking a french fry when he spoke again. “You know, maybe if you stopped thinking so hard, it wouldn't be so difficult to start a normal conversation.” He bit into his chosen fry and met Atemu's tense gaze, his lips tilting into a kind smile as he chewed. Mortified, Atemu, who had been about to bite into his burger, put it back down, staring at his food like it had insulted him.

“I just,” Atemu hedged, nudging his fries from side to side in the basket, “I don't know how to talk to someone … who … I don't,” he grabbed the ketchup bottle from the side of the table, popping the cap and absently offered it to Yuugi who took it with a small word of thanks, squeezing out a generous dollop next to his fries. When Yuugi handed it back, Atemu held it uncertainly, as though he had forgotten what it was for. “I care what you think,” Atemu finally said to the plastic bottle, his expression vulnerable.

Yuugi could have meanly teased and told Atemu that ketchup did not really have opinions to give in the first place, but his heart went out to Atemu. He hastily wiped the salt from his fingers and placed his hand over Atemu's wrist, avoiding the red container. The other boy looked at him then, face guarded, ready for any type of backlash. Yuugi squeezed the wrist to soothe the other boy. He understood now. Atemu had flipped the bird to the rest of the world for so long that he did not know how to reign himself in for someone he actually cared about. The newness of the situation must have terrified Atemu. Terrified him like Yuugi had once been terrified of his friend Jounouchi, back when they were younger and Jounouchi had been cruel. Terrified like the day Jounouchi had embraced Yuugi as a friend and not a target. Yes, though the situations were different, Yuugi knew the fear and he understood.

Atemu's pinched expression dissolved into one of relief and he smiled, finally at ease since Yuugi had mentioned Burger World. Atemu let the bottle rest on the table and twisted his wrist, dislodging Yuugi's hand. He slowly took Yuugi's digits into his hold and ran the print of his thumb over the soft knuckles, his touch timid. Yuugi looked down at their touching hands, then up again. Atemu was blushing, but his smile remained. At that second, Yuugi could have sworn that he felt Atemu's light caress all the way to his heart.

Atemu pulled away after that, taking the ketchup up again and squirting the red liquid messily over his fries. His heart was calm now. Yuugi had not rejected or recoiled at his touch. The hope this produced was flowing through him like confidence. He put aside the ketchup and grabbed his burger, taking a hearty bite, his whole being content.

With horrified fascination, Yuugi watched as Atemu devoured nearly half of his sandwich in a single bite. He was amazed that, though the sides of Atemu's cheeks bulged with the overflow of food, his lips remained sealed as he chewed. His friend Jounouchi would have killed for that kind of skill. Yuugi found himself rather grateful that he did not have to endure watching the process of mastication like he usually did when eating with Jounouchi.

“Before Domino, where did you attend school?” Atemu asked and Yuugi found himself fortunate once again when Atemu swallowed all of his food before speaking, unlike Jounouchi who tended to spray it instead of say it.

“Oh, here,” Yuugi said, “but I was in the private school in the north part of town. I didn't really like it there, so I somehow finally managed to convince my mom to let me go to public school.”

Pausing with a fry halfway to his mouth, Atemu's head tilted in confusion.

“So, wait, how did you meet Jounouchi if you were in a private school?” Atemu asked.

Yuugi was quiet then. He bit into his burger purposely and chewed, drawing out the silence before he had to answer. When he finally did, his voice was softer and subdued.

“Jounouchi and I don't have the best beginning,” he said, “about a year ago or maybe two, he and some other guys used to go around to my school and pick on a few of us. He never actually did anything other than tease me and leave, but the group he used to hang around with was a pretty bad crowd.” He picked up a fry and ran it through the pile of ketchup before leaving it. “They weren't as nice as Jounouchi. He never beat me for money like they did. Not that I ever really had any. I learned pretty quick that I shouldn't carry much.” Yuugi rubbed at his bruise absently before he picked the fry up again and popped it into his mouth, his face void of emotion.

Atemu stopped eating. He pulled his hands into his lap where they clenched out of sight. The blood in his veins boiled at the thought of the assholes who had hurt Yuugi. There was a pounding in his ears so loud it was almost painful. He wanted to rip those jerks to shreds. He could not believe anyone had dared to hurt such a sweet boy; had dared to lay their filthy hands on the Beautiful Yuugi. He could also not even begin to comprehend why Yuugi was acting as though none of it mattered. Regardless, Atemu refused to sit there and do nothing when there were people he had to destroy. They would pay for harming Yuugi Mutou.

“Anyway,” said Yuugi, unaware of Atemu's upset, “eventually Jounouchi found out that those guys had been doing more than innocent teasing and when he tried to stop them from beating me up, they turned on him. I tried defending him, but that didn't work out so well. We've been friends ever since.” Yuugi took a few sips from his shake, still oblivious to Atemu's quiet fury.

Atemu took a few breaths so his next words did not alarm the other boy.

“This bad crowd … who are they?”

Yuugi looked up at the dark tone, a chill running down his spine. Atemu was composed. Not a hair out of place. But the muted menace in his wine-colored eyes dredged fear right through Yuugi like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. He sat up straight, alarmed.

“I don't remember their names,” Yuugi said quickly, trying, in vain, to stop whatever was happening with Atemu. He was scared. A minute ago, Atemu had been so relaxed and now he was making those “murder eyes” like Malik had called them. The change terrified and confused Yuugi; he did not understand why his story had caused it.

“Try,” Atemu's voice was hard like a stone, solid and unyielding. Yuugi only wanted to sink into his chair and vanish.

“I don't know their real names. They always used stupid nicknames for each other. Can we change the topic now? You're scaring me.”

And just like that, Atemu's face changed to one of dejection, his unpleasant aura wafting away.

“I – I'm sorry,” he said, voice full of anguish, “It just makes me so – _upset_ that someone hurt you. I'll stop.” He looked miserably to his food and Yuugi let out an alleviated sound.

“That's in the past,” he said gently, “and it's not like they're around anymore. I haven't seen them since they got restraining orders from school grounds. Apparently one of the kids reported them. And I'm not even going to that school anymore, so it doesn't even matter –”

“It matters to me,” Atemu said impulsively, “I won't let anyone hurt you ever again.”

“That's sweet, but you can't promise something like that,” said Yuugi reasonably, shaking his head with amusement.

“I can _too,”_ was Atemu's sullen reply as he sunk further into the booth.

Yuugi laughed and covered his mouth when Atemu only managed to look more gloomy. Atemu crossed his arms over his chest, miffed. Yuugi playfully tried to nudge Atemu's shoe, peeved when his toe could only reach Atemu's shin.

Atemu looked at him then with slight confusion, a humored snort leaving him when he realized what Yuugi had tried to do. Yuugi tried to give him his best glare, but Atemu looked positively charmed at the sight. He sat up and nudged Yuugi's foot with his own in return. The action only succeeded in earning him a cross pout for his tease and Atemu grinned in response.

“Yeah, rub it in, you giant,” Yuugi huffed, taking his cup and sipping it sorely.

“I'm no giant, little one,” Atemu responded with a chuckle.

“Calling me 'little one' does not make me feel any better,” Yuugi grumbled.

“What if I told you that I only call you 'little one' because you're younger than me?” Atemu's smile was dazzling. Yuugi got the strangest urge to find out what it would feel like against his mouth.

“Um, well, that's okay then,” Yuugi blushed, looking away from the attractive face he suddenly wanted to kiss. He busied himself with his food to distract himself from the unexpected lascivious thoughts that had entered his mind soon after. Like what kind of sound would come from that mouth if he were to bite that gorgeous jaw. And if he would cut himself if he were to lick one of those sharp cheekbones. “But how did you know I was – oh of course, my classmates are Ryou and Malik.”

“Yes, that is how I deduced your age,” Atemu said, his appetite coming back with a vengeance. He shoved more burger into his mouth, closely followed by a handful of fries and a sip of vanilla milkshake.

Yuugi looked at his burger harshly, trying to imagine his grandfather dancing in a leotard and tutu, desperate to calm the surge of hormones affecting his libido. Desperate to think of something besides how convenient it was that Atemu did not seem to have a gag reflex if all the food in his mouth was anything to go by. Yuugi busied himself with his food, ashamed of his thoughts.

“But if you really don't like it, I can stop calling you that,” said Atemu carefully after he swallowed his food.

Yuugi pulled the fry he was nibbling on away from his mouth.

“I don't … mind it,” he said softly, his earlier blush spreading to his ears. He actually did not mind it. In fact, every time Atemu called him by that pet name, something warm and comfortable curled about his stomach, secure and sweet. He directed his attention to his food again, trying his best not to look as self-conscious as he felt. Though had he been looking, he would have noticed that Atemu was just as flustered as him.

“Thank you for giving me a chance, Yuug – um, Mutou.” Atemu was messing with his fries. His fingers seemed unable to just _relax._

“I'm … glad I did. You can call me Yuugi,” said Yuugi with a smile.

“Oh. Okay … Yuugi,” was the simple, meek answer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footsies under the table, tho.
> 
> May God forgive me for this chapter. More of the date coming up next chapter.
> 
> Also, forgive me if I messed up Miho's hair and eye color. I suck at guessing colors.


	10. The Date - Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atemu and Yuugi continue their date, but a problem arises in the form of gossip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, okay, so I didn't update The Aftermath last weekend. My bad. Wasn't feeling it and my mouse broke, so it makes editing nearly impossible. I bet y'all expected it to be updated this weekend, but nope. You're getting more MIL instead. I worked really hard on this chapter, so I hope it's good. Be sure to leave me some comments when you're done reading, yes?
> 
> Okay, enjoy the chapter!

Atemu and Yuugi finished their food in timid quiet, each sending bashful glances towards the other when they were sure the other was not looking. Yuugi himself did not really understand what he felt so embarrassed about, but he just knew he could not look Atemu in the eyes yet without feeling like his face was on fire. Somehow, he felt that letting Atemu use his first name was a sort of milestone, since he had viciously told the other that he could not before. It was hard to believe that had happened only yesterday. Things were happening so fast. Yuugi frowned to himself.

“I'll be right back,” said Yuugi, shuffling out of his seat, “Restroom.”

Atemu could say nothing, having shoved the rest of his burger into his mouth. He nodded, but Yuugi was already walking away, taking advantage of the fact that Atemu could not speak. He made his way around the registers to the restroom, almost squealing in surprise when someone grabbed his arm. He turned, startled beyond belief to see his friend Miho.

“Miho, oh, thank god it's you!” he patted his chest and sighed in relief.

“Sorry for startling you, little Yuugi,” she whispered urgently, casting a quick look over her shoulder, “but I needed to talk to you while you were alone.”

Yuugi also glanced over her shoulder, but could only see his table from here. Atemu was staring at his drink, frowning. He looked back to Miho who was biting her lip, her eyes wide and fearful.

“Miho, are you okay?” asked Yuugi. His friend's actions were unusual. She was usually shy and quiet and not so forward.

“That's what I was about to ask you. Why are you with _him?”_ The way she said “him” was sharp and alarmed and it confused Yuugi. He did not understand why Miho was so worried.

“Um, Miho, why –”

“Has he done anything? Is he threatening you? Was he the one who did that to your face? Oh, god, don't tell me he's hurting you!” Her soft voice was hushed, breathless, and _scared._ Yuugi's eyes widened at her words.

“What? Of course not,” he said, touching the bruise on his face at the reminder. “No. No, he didn't do this to me. This was –” he broke off, appalled at the suggestion that Atemu was hurting him, “I'm on a date!” He figured that telling Miho he was on a date would calm her and make her back off, but if anything, she became more distressed.

“Oh, why would you do that? Do you not know who he _is?”_ she hissed.

He had to be missing something. It was possible that Miho did not believe his injury was not caused by Atemu. Yet something in his gut told Yuugi that it had something to do with the way she had reacted to the sight of Atemu. She had been terror-stricken like Atemu had the plague. He had not wanted to ask about it since he knew Atemu had a bad reputation. He had simply attributed her reaction to Atemu's infamy, but now Yuugi thought that maybe he should have dug further.

“Miho, what are you talking about?” he asked slowly, an uneasiness beginning to creep under his skin.

Miho lowered her voice further and Yuugi had to strain his ears to even hear her.

“That guy set someone on fire in _this_ restaurant a year ago! I – I didn't see it myself because we were all on the ground when he did it, but I saw the guy while he was burning! It was horrible! And you should have seen that creep's face – he was _smiling!”_ Her whispers were bordering on hysterical. She clutched Yuugi's arm like a lifeline. “You need to get away from him, Yuugi. He's dangerous! The cops didn't arrest him because no one saw him actually do it. They called it a freak accident, but there was no one else who could have done it!”

Miho glanced back again to Atemu and pulled Yuugi towards the lavatories.

“Look,” she said, “I'll distract him and you run home, okay? You run and you never talk to him again –”

“Miho.” Yuugi gently pried the girl's hands from his arm and gave her a reassuring smile that he did not feel. No, Yuugi was very much disturbed by Miho's account of the event. “It's okay. I already know all this. He's actually not a bad guy. I can take care of myself anyway. I gotta go to the bathroom now. Excuse me.” Yuugi then turned on his heel and entered the toilets before she could protest, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He stood at the sink and opened the faucet with shaky hands. Splashing cold water on his face, he dried off with paper towels before shutting it off again.

Yuugi stared at his reflection, crumpling the towels in his hands. The bruise was beginning to purple at the edges, he noted; it was unsightly. Miho had been right to be so alarmed. He gulped nervously. Atemu really _had_ set someone on fire. Miho had been a _witness._ It was true and he was on a date with a guy who had pyromaniacal tendencies. Letting out a shuddering breath, Yuugi tossed the towels into the garbage. He moved away from the mirror and undid his pants, relieving himself at a urinal while deep in thought.

He did not know what he was supposed to do now. Yuugi was torn between continuing the date or bailing and running home like Miho had suggested. When he was done, Yuugi zipped himself up and washed his hands, absently chewing on the inside of his cheek. Atemu had said he was changing into a better person; that had to account for something in his favor. Yuugi only wanted to enjoy the date without worrying about Atemu having a psychotic break and setting him on fire like that other person. To do that, he supposed he could just talk to Atemu about what happened. Taking a deep breath, Yuugi dried his hands and tossed the paper towels before leaving the bathroom and approaching the booth where Atemu waited.

When Yuugi came back from the bathroom, Atemu was putting his change away. He smiled when he looked up and pocketed his wallet.

“I hope you don't mind. I paid while you were in the bathroom,” Atemu said and his eyes were practically shining with giddiness.

“Oh, are we leaving?” Yuugi slid into the booth slowly, eyes averted.

Smile dimming, Atemu could feel that something had changed while Yuugi had been gone. He could feel it in his gut.

“Um, not unless you want to?” he said uncertainly. Something had _definitely_ changed; Atemu could tell by the way Yuugi refused to look him in the eye. He could see the slight tremble to Yuugi's fingertips.

“No! Let's stay here,” Yuugi said eagerly, still avoiding his confused gaze, “Let's stay in this nice public place.” Yuugi then lowered his voice, muttering to himself, “Where there's plenty of witnesses.” Atemu was sure he was not meant to hear it, but he had and it _hurt._ It hurt like nothing else. It hurt more than when Yuugi had told him he did not date bullies. Hell, it hurt more than when his mother ignored him. But Atemu was _used_ to being ignored by his mother. He was _not_ used to being figuratively punched in the heart. Well, he _was,_ but he had not been expecting Yuugi to do it so quickly.

“'Witnesses',” he parroted tonelessly and Yuugi looked at him then, eyes wide and guilty. Atemu could not take it. His heart sank and throbbed painfully. He sat back, focusing his eyes on the window so he did not have to look at the beautiful person who had hurt him. He had been so blinded by his feelings that he had not realized. How stupid of him, really, to think Yuugi had changed his mind about him. Somehow he had convinced himself that Yuugi could like him. He had thought the date had been going well.

 _I'm an idiot,_ he thought bitterly, _Of course he doesn't like me. I'm just a bully and a criminal. I'm on a fucking pity date._

Abruptly, he laughed; he could not help it. The sound bubbled up inside of him, almost with a hysterical undertone, and Atemu covered his face with a hand as the chuckles spilled out of him. He did not try to stop the laughter. It felt like one of those moments where it was either laugh or cry and, as Yuugi had pointed out, he was in public. He could not lose his composure here.

“I'm an idiot,” he finally said when the laughter finally calmed some. “I should have known better than to think someone like you might actually like me back. Wow.” His smile was sardonic and he did not even try to change it. The bitter feeling in his chest expanded and Atemu despised himself more than he ever had before. He felt like the punch line of an especially awful joke. Dropping his hands to the table, he saw they were shaking. Clenching them into fists, he ignored them. He had never felt so fragile, like he would fall apart right there. “I should go,” he said through the last of his mirthless laughter as he slid from his seat. “I'm sorry I bothered you,” he stood, staring at the table. He could not meet Yuugi's eyes. He could not even look at any part of him. His heart was hurting too much, beating too hard. “Don't worry, I won't talk to you anymore. And again, sorry for wasting your time.”

Atemu turned and made his way to the door, each step humiliating in itself. He felt like the entire restaurant was watching him. Watching as he failed. Watching him run away like a pathetic loser. Pushing through the doors, Atemu felt even worse when a small part of him hoped that Yuugi would call after him. As the doors closed behind him, his heart sank; Yuugi did not. Atemu was not entirely sure why he had expected any different.

“I'm such an idiot,” Atemu muttered as he looked around frantically. He needed somewhere to go. He needed a place where he could hide from his mortification. Somewhere he could hole himself up to lick his wounds. “So fucking stupid.” He wanted to punch something. He could feel his eyes starting to prickle at the edges and he viciously shoved that feeling down. Choosing randomly, he began to walk. Atemu did not have any destination in mind, he just needed to get away. He had to escape, to put as much distance between himself and this failure.

 _He was too nice to say no,_ Atemu realized. _He saw my desperate neediness and took pity on me. I was stupid to think Yuugi actually wanted to give me a chance._ Atemu turned into the first alley he came upon and strode down it. He spotted an overturned milk crate next to a dumpster and seized it. He sat and buried his face into his hands, breathing harshly to calm the sorrow inside him.

He gagged slightly at the smell of garbage, wrinkling his nose at the green container, and then scoffed at himself.

“Look at me, sitting amongst the garbage,” he mused to himself and raised his head, looking to the sky. “Is this supposed to be poetic?” he snarled at the lazy clouds before returning his face to the safety of his palms. “God, did I make it seem like he couldn't say no?” The thought hit him hard and he despaired. “Fuck,” he spat, “he must've thought I'd do something awful to him if he said no.”

Dropping his hands, he spied an empty milk bottle. Picking it up, he grit his teeth.

“I'm such a fucking _idiot!”_ he threw the bottle and it shattered against the building wall, its pieces ricocheting off with the force of it. Several pieces struck his jacket and he brushed them off with a swipe of his hand. His head fell and it hung there, staring at his trembling hands. It was no secret that he had problems keeping his temper. To expect Yuugi to want to be around that was beyond foolish. There was no way Yuugi could just brush off his volatile moods and his violent past like nothing. Atemu had been the greatest of fools, too distracted by Yuugi's pretty face to realize he was all wrong for a sweet boy like that.

A buzzing from his pocket alerted Atemu to a message and he pulled his phone out, staring at the black screen before unlocking it. It was Bakura.

 

**From _Thing2_ :**

**R U rly on a date w/the nu kid?**

 

A foul mood stole over Atemu as he monotonously tapped at the screen, sending a reply before turning off his phone. He had no desire to speak to anyone, and much less Bakura.

 

**To _Thing2_ :**

**There's no date. Fuck off for a while.**

 

He did not need shit from Bakura right now. And if Bakura was texting him, he knew Melvin would not be far behind. He heard footsteps then, but did not look up. Anyone who purposely ventured down a narrow, dark alley was anything but good news. And if he was honest with himself, Atemu could really use some bad company. He could use a fight to heat his blood and stave off the cold feeling left in his heart. So he waited.

He listened as the light footsteps came closer, faltering and unsure. Looking at his phone, Atemu figured he should get it out of harm's way. He did not want to end up with a broken mobile from whatever confrontation he would have. Absently wiping the glass screen onto his knee, he made sure it was spotless before pocketing it.

“I should warn you that I'm not a defenseless school kid,” he told the footsteps. They might as well be warned before he let loose on them. He was considerate like that.

“I know,” came the soft response and Atemu snapped his head up in surprise, shock overtaking his features as his eyes fell upon the short teen.

“Yuugi.” His heart leapt in joy, but his gut churned with nausea, the humiliation fresh in his mind.

“Yeah, it's me,” said the boy, shuffling awkwardly. He came forth and held out a brown leather wallet. “It fell out of your pocket. I thought I should return it,” he explained, “good thing you didn't go too far.”

Atemu pawed at his pockets and inwardly cursed before taking the wallet, unwilling to meet his eyes again. Instead, he stared at the broken shards of the milk bottle that laid scattered at his feet, feeling much like it in its current state: broken and lying in something that looked like puke.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he pushed the wallet deep into his pocket, “you can leave now.” He did not mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, but he was bitter and his heart still ached. It was just way too soon for him to be talking to Yuugi. He needed to get over this ordeal before he could pretend it did not hurt like knives carving into his chest.

But Yuugi did not leave. The boy even came closer. He stood in front of Atemu and took a breath. Atemu had never felt more at home among the garbage.

“What I said was really insensitive of me and I'm sorry I said it,” Yuugi said.

Atemu did not move or speak. He continued to stare at the broken glass, his thoughts turbulent.

“I got scared,” Yuugi continued, “Miho told me what happened last year and it really scared me.” A spike of displeasure rose within Atemu and he tried hard not to show it on his face. He really hated that girl. Nothing would have gone wrong if not for her. “I … it was just –”

“You don't have to apologize,” Atemu grimaced to himself and shrugged nonchalantly, “I get it. You were too scared to say no. You were right to be scared. I'm a murderer and dangerous. I'm the stupid one who thought I had a chance with you. You can go. I won't hunt you down or anything. Really, don't worry and just _go.”_ Atemu leaned back and fixed his eyes on the dumpster next to him. There was writing on it, phone numbers to call for a good time, graffiti; he did not really read it. He wanted to disappear into his surroundings. He wanted Yuugi to leave and stop apologizing. He wanted to be alone, to stop hoping. But Yuugi just wouldn't _leave._

“I didn't go out with you because I was scared,” Yuugi said and Atemu snorted unattractively.

“So you did it because you're too nice to say no,” Atemu said bitingly, “Same difference.”

“Would you stop being so difficult!”

Atemu looked up into the distressed purple eyes of Yuugi Mutou, taken aback at the raised voice. So small and sweet, Atemu had never expected Yuugi capable of being loud. And now Yuugi looked at him with a fierceness in his gaze that threw him for a loop.

“I accepted this date because I like you, Atemu,” Yuugi said, “because you said you'd change and I believe you. I messed up – Miho said those things and I got scared. I let my fear get in the way and I'm sorry! But one doesn't just brush off murder!” Yuugi actually stomped his foot and Atemu stared at him in awe. “Still, my mistake was listening to other people and not getting the truth from you. If I'm going to date you, I need to be able to trust you and that's where I should start. By listening to your side of the story and knowing that you're not going to hurt me or anyone else.” Yuugi took his hand then, but he was shaking and Atemu could tell that Yuugi still feared him.

“I'd never hurt you,” Atemu whispered, determined to do whatever it took to reassure him, _“never.”_

By the way Yuugi's face relaxed, Atemu knew the boy believed him.

“I'll tell you the truth,” Atemu said and he tried to smile, but he was sure it came off as more of a grimace, “of what happened. You might not like me afterwards, but I'll tell you. I won't lie or twist it to suit me. I won't trick you. And believe me when I say that I'm not about to hurt anyone else. I won't, I promise.”

For his words, Yuugi gave him a watery smile.

“Then can we get away from this smelly place?” Yuugi asked softly, “And continue our date so you can tell me what really hap – you have something on your … what is that?” Yuugi let go of Atemu's hand and reached towards his face, touching his cheek.

Atemu winced and cursed at the pain, moving his face away to feel for himself. Something was embedded there. He plucked it with a hiss and dropped it into the palm of his hand. The shard glinted at him, stained with his blood and Atemu frowned. He had thrown the bottle so hard that a piece had pierced into his cheek, but Atemu was more surprised at the realization that he had not felt it at all. He had been brooding so much that he had blocked out everything else. Embarrassed at himself, Atemu tossed the shard to the ground.

“You're bleeding,” Yuugi murmured as he rummaged through his pockets and pulled the handkerchief out.

At the sight of it, Atemu blinked in surprise. He had not thought Yuugi would keep it. That he had, made something flutter in Atemu's stomach and he was secretly relieved that Yuugi had not gotten rid of it. Yuugi gently pressed it to his cheek and Atemu looked at him, silent. There was a saddened look in Yuugi's gorgeous eyes and his heart thumped uneasily in his chest. He did not like it when Yuugi looked sad; it hurt him to see him that way. But before Atemu could even try to fix it, Yuugi sighed and spoke again.

“Come on,” he said gently, “I don't live that far from here. We need to get that cleaned and bandaged. Who knows what kind of germs that bottle had.” With his other hand, he pulled Atemu to his feet. Holding the handkerchief in place, Atemu was mute as Yuugi pulled him away from the dark, narrow alley and back onto the busy streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of that chapter (and yes, Atemu is a drama queen). Oh boy. So Yuugi's determined to get answers and Atemu's sure Yuugi will hate him when the truth comes out. Poor little, disturbed Atemu. Pity him. (Also, yes, Yuugi saw Atemu's angry fit and _still_ thought it was a good idea to approach him. Oh, Yuugi, you silly boy.) Ah, I hope one of you laughed at Bakura's name on Atemu's phone. "Thing 2" is indeed a Dr. Seuss reference.
> 
> Also, don't hate on Miho for trying to warn Yuugi away from Atemu and being really concerned for her friend. Put yourself in her shoes. Your tiny, sweet friend shows up with a gross bruise and the guy you sometimes have nightmares of - wouldn't you try like hell to save him?
> 
> Coming up next, this train wreck of a "date" continues; Atemu ends up in Yuugi's house and, whoa, he lives in a game shop? Who's the old man and who the actual fuck is Honda?
> 
> As always, comments are more than welcome. Tell me what you think (hopes and dreams included). Also, remember to leave me some Kudos if you haven't already! Thanks for reading.


	11. The Date - Meeting the Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atemu meets both Grandpa and Mama Mutou; he feels slightly out of his depth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By some amazing stroke of luck and lots of struggling, I managed to upload this via phone. Please enjoy.

As they walked in silence, Atemu belatedly came to the conclusion that Yuugi had seen him throw the bottle. Yuugi had been there, watching him as he broke down like a child; Atemu felt ashamed of himself. He felt like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum. He gripped Yuugi's hand tighter, desperate to feel some kind of reassurance that he was not as big of an idiot as he had made himself look. When Yuugi squeezed back, his heart unclenched and the gnawing pit in his gut went away. Heartened by Yuugi's touch, he picked up his pace so he was not being dragged so much as led. 

Fingers twitching against his cheek, Atemu happily kept his eyes on the back of Yuugi's head. He pondered how soft that hair would be if he ran his hands through it. There was a strange urge to touch and see, tingling at his fingertips, but Atemu refrained from acting on the impulse as he did not think Yuugi would appreciate having Atemu touching him at the moment. Atemu did not even realize they had reached their destination until a jingling bell pulled him from his reverie. Looking around, Atemu frowned at the glass cases and cardboard setups. They were in a game shop, though Atemu did not understand why if they had been on their way to Yuugi's home. 

“Welcome back, Yuugi,” greeted a raspy voice, “how was – who's this?” 

Looking over Yuugi's head, Atemu saw a rather short, old man standing behind the counter. By his stature, and similar wild hair, it was not hard to deduce that this old man was related to Yuugi. Atemu bowed respectfully, though the action felt awkward and unfamiliar, and he swore he messed it up, but the old man bowed his head in greeting and smiled. Pulling Atemu closer to the old man, Yuugi spoke. 

“Grandpa, this is Atemu … um, Atemu – I'm not actually sure about your last name,” Yuugi admitted, shamefaced, giving Atemu an apologetic smile. 

“It's Goutei,” he said, suddenly distracted by those dazzling teeth. He grinned back as Yuugi's grandfather looked on with raised eyebrows and an amused glint in his eye. 

“Mr. Goutei, huh?” Atemu snapped his attention back to the old man, feeling almost surprised that he was still there and slightly irritated by the use of his name. He opened his mouth to correct the old man, but Yuugi's grandfather was already speaking again. “You can call me grandpa, or Grandpa Mutou. Are you the young man who asked my grandson on a date?” 

Atemu stiffened slightly at Yuugi's side, but nodded. The old man seemed pleasant enough, but who knew what he really thought of his grandson going out on a date with another boy. 

“Ah, quite a handsome young man,” said Grandpa Mutou as he studied Atemu. He turned a grin onto his grandson and winked. “Yuugi, you sly boy, way to land such a looker!” 

Atemu flushed at the compliment and, when he glanced at Yuugi, he noticed the short boy was no better off. His face was just as red and more than a little peeved. Yuugi glared at his grandfather, vexed by his comment. 

“Grandpa!” he hissed, “You're embarrassing me!” 

But the old man only laughed heartily. He waved a hand about as though to rid Yuugi's words from the air. 

“Come now, Yuugi, you know I'm only happy you're finally dating.” He reached out a wrinkled old hand to ruffle his grandson's hair, at which Yuugi's face flamed brightly before dropping Atemu's hand to cover his embarrassed expression with both his own. Atemu felt very much like doing the same. Not sure how to react to the playful grandfather, Atemu only stood there awkwardly, hand still pressing the handkerchief to his cheek. 

“Okay, you've had your fun, Atemu and I are going inside now,” Yuugi released his face and took hold of Atemu's hand once more. He started walking and called out pointedly when his grandfather looked like he had more to say, _“Bye,_ grandpa!” Yuugi quickly pulled Atemu behind the counter and through one of the doors beyond it, before turning and shutting it firmly after them. He was still quite red in the face as he leaned against the door, and he would not look up. He even had yet to let go of Atemu's hand. 

“Sorry about my grandpa,” he said lowly, “he likes to tease.” 

“It's fine,” was all Atemu could say. He squeezed Yuugi's hand and Yuugi bit his lip, the corners of his mouth pulling up against his will. He let Atemu's hand fall as he took off his shoes, leaving them aside. 

“We don't actually have any guest slippers. Mom and grandpa are the only ones who wear any,” Yuugi said as he watched Atemu also slip out of his boots. “We don't usually have guests and Jounouchi and Honda prefer to just walk around in socks, so...” The boy trailed off uncomfortably and Atemu gave him a smile to calm him. 

_Honda?_ Atemu thought, his gaze narrowing at the unfamiliar name, _Who's Honda?_

“This way,” Yuugi led Atemu down a short hall and into the living room. It was simply decorated. There was a green couch which Yuugi gently pushed him onto. There was an old, boxy television, a brown coffee table, and possibly fake plants in the corners. The only true decoration were the various pictures that hung from the walls. Atemu spied Yuugi in several of them. He could not wait to get a closer look. Being in Yuugi's home, Atemu was anxious to see all; he ached to learn more about Yuugi. 

“Wait here,” Yuugi said, “I'm gonna get the first aid kit.” 

The boy left and Atemu itched to wander about the room. Yuugi lived behind a game shop and Atemu thought that was wonderful. He was in Yuugi's home. Yuugi's _home._

“Yuugi, you – you're not my son.” 

Atemu jumped, startled at the new voice. He whipped his head around to see a petite woman with Yuugi's same round plum-colored eyes, though her short hair was a lighter, purplish auburn. He sat there for one long groping pause before stumbling to his feet and bowing gawkily. 

“Sorry for barging in unannounced,” Atemu rapidly said, “You must be Yuugi's mother. My name is Atemu Goutei. I'm pleased to meet you.” 

The lady nodded and approached, a precarious smile on her lips. She was not very tall, almost Atemu's exact height. 

“Hello, Mr. Goutei. I am Mrs. Mutou, or Mama Mutou, if you prefer.” She reminded him so much of Yuugi, her round features so similar. He turned at the sound of footsteps and Yuugi made his way into the room, a white box in hand, his backpack gone. The boy looked between them and cleared his throat. 

“Hey, mom. This is Atemu. He's the guy I was talking about.” He placed the kit on the coffee table and pushed Atemu back onto the sofa. He went without protest and Yuugi took a seat on the coffee table before him. Mama Mutou directed her attention to her son and blinked. 

“Oh,” she said, smile faltering as her eyes darted to Atemu. Her stance shifted and she suddenly appeared uneasy. She gazed at Atemu and he looked back at her, unsure. After a moment, however, she turned her eyes to Yuugi and something in her seemed to settle. She relaxed and her smile came back. “Really?” she said and looked at Atemu closely, her head nodding imperceptibly. “Very handsome,” she said and Atemu flushed, “I understand why you said yes.” 

“Mom, really?” Yuugi paused as he opened the box to give his mother a reproachful look. She had the audacity to wiggle her eyebrows at him and Yuugi pursed his lips. “I didn't say yes just because he's cute, you know.” 

“You think I'm cute?” Atemu said under his breath, barely loud enough for Yuugi to hear. He grinned at the splotchy patches of red that came to Yuugi's cheeks. Neither boy noticed when Yuugi's mother snuck out of the room, glancing back at them with a soft smile. 

“Shut up,” Yuugi muttered, embarrassed. He took out a cotton ball and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He unscrewed the cap, pressing the cotton to the lip of the bottle and quickly turning it to soak. He put the bottle aside. 

“This will sting,” said Yuugi as he delicately moved Atemu's hand away along with the handkerchief. Atemu nodded, tucking the soiled cloth into his pocket, and turned his head to the side. He leaned forward, giving Yuugi better access to the wound. Yuugi took Atemu's chin into his hand, cupping his face tentatively and Atemu's heart skipped a beat. Yuugi's hand was soft on his jaw; he had the unreasonable desire to hold it within his own. Stomach flipping, Atemu waited, watching him. Holding up the cotton, Yuugi took a deep breath and Atemu braced himself, but he still flinched when when Yuugi wiped at the cut. Yuugi was being more than gentle, but alcohol stung. 

Hissing with empathy, Yuugi moved the cotton away to lightly blow on the wound, catching both boys off guard with the tender deed. Atemu turned his head to blink owlishly at Yuugi who could only gape, surprised by his own action. 

“S-sorry,” Yuugi quickly mumbled, unable to comprehend why he had done that. It was possible that years of having his mother soothe his cuts the very same way had become ingrained and almost second nature. But still, regardless of the reason, he had done it and he could not find it in himself to regret it. It had helped with the sting, had it not? 

“...thank you,” Atemu said and turned his head back to the side, a small smile playing on his lips. Yuugi repeated the cleaning with a new alcohol-soaked ball of cotton and even blew on the cut again, his cheeks swirling with color all the while. He pulled a small tube of ointment and used his index finger to apply it. 

“Don't worry, I washed my hands,” he said offhandedly, dabbing the ointment, “this should help to prevent scarring.” 

_I don't mind scars,_ Atemu thought to himself. Though he did not voice the comment; Yuugi could do whatever he liked and it would be okay with him. If Yuugi did not want him to scar, Atemu would do what he could to prevent it. 

Taking a band-aid from the kit, Yuugi pried off the plastic and placed it over the cut. He smoothed down the adhesive edges with his thumb, repeating the action a couple more times than necessary. 

“Done,” he whispered, letting his fingers linger for a second before letting them fall to his lap. Sitting back, Yuugi carefully packed away the rest of the things, setting the ointment beside him and moving the used cotton balls further away to throw out. He pulled the repacked kit into his lap and Atemu hesitated. He looked down to the floor, gathering his courage before he abruptly placed a hand over Yuugi's. He watched Yuugi carefully, but Yuugi did not show any indication that his touch was unwelcome. Slowly, he slid his digits under Yuugi's, his heart stuck in his throat. He ran his thumb over the knuckles, reminiscent of the way he had done at Burger World, bringing a well-known color to Yuugi's cheeks. 

“Thank you,” Atemu murmured, the words lying heavily between them. His eyes never trailed from Yuugi's face, from those eyes that melted the ice from his heart. That gentle face had turned Atemu's world upside down and Atemu could not stop looking at him. Every single feature fascinated him, especially that mouth. He could not stop wanting to taste those lips. Could not stop wanting to feel them against his own. He wanted it so much. Inhaling quietly, Atemu suddenly became aware of his dry mouth. He swallowed; his head felt so light. 

Staring at their hands, a content floaty feeling enveloped Yuugi's chest. He felt so comfortable, sitting in front of Atemu, holding his hand. He vaguely wished they could stay like this. There was no noise in the room but their breathing. No movement but the thumb that caressed his hand. Yuugi raised his head, the smallest of smiles on his lips, to meet Atemu's dark eyes. A pull, strong, but unalarming, overcame him and he leaned, noting abstractedly that Atemu was close. He did not think, his thoughts had become muddled and his body had begun to hum. 

Atemu heard when Yuugi stopped breathing. He did not know if he had done the same, but then he really did not care. He just knew he needed to satisfy this burn inside of him. So he closed the gap, unsure of the exact moment he closed his eyes. 

Their lips touched so lightly, that it took a moment for each of them to register the contact. It was so soft, Atemu desired to feel more. With a tinge of courage, he pressed firmly, one languid caress of his mouth against Yuugi's and moved away. He opened his eyes and watched Yuugi do the same a second later. They looked at one another and the stark realization of what they had just done arrived like a flash of lightning, their eyes widening comically. Yuugi slapped a hand over his mouth and the first aid kit slipped off his lap, falling to the floor with a clatter. 

Stiffening in shock, Atemu flushed to the roots of his hair. He could not believe it. He had done it. He had _actually_ done it. 

_Oh, my god, I kissed him,_ Atemu thought, _I really kissed him._

“Uh, I – uh,” Atemu stuttered, dropping Yuugi's hand in shock, “f-fuck.” 

Slowly, Yuugi nodded his agreement. Fuck, indeed. 

“That wasn't meant to happen,” Atemu winced at his words. It was all he could think. He despised that he could not come up with anything better. It was like just being around Yuugi disabled his brain processes. Yuugi was still staring at him in shock. The level of awkward had gone from nonexistent to overwhelming and Atemu did not know how to fix it. 

“You … so you didn't want to kiss me?” Yuugi removed the hand from his mouth, frowning with hurt. 

“No – I mean, yes – I mean, _fuck,”_ Atemu rubbed at his eyes in frustration, “I mean, I want to kiss you _again,”_ he said wretchedly, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until it hurt. He was an idiot and he did not know how it had happened. Ever since he had met Yuugi, his brains had gone on an extended vacation. He said, “But I hadn't planned on kissing you at all because I wanted to wait until you were comfortable with me.” He let his hands drop, blinking at the stars sprouting in his vision. 

“I know this sounds really backwards,” Yuugi started, smiling as Atemu continued to blink and squint, his wine-colored eyes unfocused, “but I am comfortable with you … except when you're scary.” Yuugi grimaced and took Atemu's hand into both his own. Atemu blushed at the contact, lowering his eyes to the pale green rug underneath the coffee table. “I wasn't expecting it, but I didn't … _not_ like it,” Yuugi said, looking away shyly. 

In the quiet moment that followed, Atemu sighed, comforted by Yuugi's words. Yuugi had not pitched a fit or demanded he leave. His kiss had not been unwelcome. His kiss had been _liked._ His lips pursed in an attempt to assuage the smile that threatened to split his face. The winged beasts in his belly fluttered giddily. His first kiss with Yuugi had not been long. It had not been passionate or even on purpose. It had been a brief, chaste, heart-melting union of their lips and Atemu would not change it for anything, not even for the world on a silver platter. 

_Although,_ he mused, _the world on a silver platter would be … Yuugi._

He frowned, chafed by the very idea of someone offering him Yuugi. It did not sit well with Atemu. He did not want to be given the boy. Yuugi was not an object. He wanted to _earn_ his love and his trust. Atemu wanted Yuugi to willingly come to him. 

“Mom!” 

Atemu's head shot up at the indignant cry. Yuugi was gaping at the doorway and when he looked, he saw Yuugi's mother peering into the room, camera in hand, caught and sheepish. Atemu's mouth fell open in mortification. 

“Oops,” said Mama Mutou, belatedly moving her hand behind her hide the camera, “I've been caught!” 

“Oh, my god, mom!” 

The humiliation in Yuugi's cry reflected Atemu's emotions perfectly. They had been spied on, possibly photographed, or worse, _recorded._ Atemu had the unreasonable urge to run away. But one glance at Yuugi's humiliated face convinced him otherwise. 

“What are you doing!” Yuugi groaned. 

“It's your first date!” Mama Mutou protested, “I couldn't help myself! It doesn't matter if he's a boy. These are your memories we need to capture!” 

Yuugi quickly picked up the bloodied cottons and the ointment, snapped up the first aid kit, and tucked it under his arm, his other hand grabbing for Atemu's. He pulled the older boy after him, past his guilty mother and up some wooden stairs. 

_“Bye,_ mom!” Yuugi called down to his mother, his eyes narrowed, brow puckered in distress. At the landing, he pulled Atemu down the hall and through the first open door. 

“Leave your door open!” Mama Mutou called hastily. 

“No! You'll spy on me again!” Yuugi shoved his back against the door, closing it with a snap. He closed his eyes, letting out a put-upon whine. “I should've known she'd do that again,” Yuugi said with a sigh. 

_Again?_ A spark of jealousy ignited in Atemu's gut at the thought of Yuugi kissing other people, his mother capturing the moments with her camera. He kept his face neutral, though wanted nothing more than to pout. Yuugi was his first kiss and Atemu had been hoping that he was Yuugi's as well. The thought that he was not hurt Atemu and caused his heart to sink in his chest. 

“She took pictures the first time I brought Jounouchi home. I was so embarrassed!” Yuugi opened his pained violet eyes, shoulders hunched and Atemu perked up slightly with hope. “I'm pretty sure she did it again when Honda came too, but I didn't catch her.” 

_There's that name again,_ Atemu thought with mild annoyance, _I should ask._

Pushing off the door with another sigh, Yuugi crossed the room, nudging open the door on the other side and entering a bathroom. Atemu took the time alone to examine the room, effectively becoming distracted from his train of thought at a sudden realization. _Yuugi's room!_ he thought excitedly. It was neat. There was a well-made bed in the corner beside the window. Next to it sat a white desk underneath the skylight in the middle of the sloping ceiling. On the other side of the room was a bookcase filled with books, trinkets, photos, puzzles, board games, and even … Atemu stared at the series of plushies on the shelf. 

He recognized them from the popular Duel Monsters card game. A sweet smile appeared on Atemu's face. He approached the shelf and picked up a brown ball of fuzz, holding it carefully in his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, Atemu could see Yuugi emerge from the bathroom. 

“Kuribou?” Atemu's voice was full of amusement, he turned his head, dark eyes searching for the other boy. 

“I _like_ Kuribou,” Yuugi responded casually. Atemu only raised an eyebrow before returning the small Duel Monster to its place. He then noticed a small pink ball of fuzz and almost snorted in disbelief. 

_“Watapon?”_ he said, incredulous. 

“I don't have to defend my life choices to you,” Yuugi said. 

Atemu turned to see that Yuugi had crossed his arms defensively, a small dust of pink on his cheeks. 

“I'm not judging,” he said smoothly, “I just … I didn't know they even _made_ Watapon.” He stepped away from the bookshelf, tucking his hands into his pockets to stop himself from touching anything else. 

“Do you play?” Yuugi asked curiously and Atemu nodded with a sheepish shrug. Though he liked the game, Atemu did not necessarily enjoy spreading that information around. The thought of what it could do to his reputation often held him back from properly relishing it. 

“Uh, yeah,” he said softly, earning himself a bright smile for his admission. 

“That's great!” Yuugi said, and Atemu's slight embarrassment evaporated on the spot. “Let's play sometime!” 

“Of course,” Atemu said immediately, “whenever you want.” He would jump at the chance to play with Yuugi and would enjoy finding out just what exactly Yuugi Mutou was made of. Atemu fancied himself a rather able player and he hoped Yuugi would be the same. “So...” he breathed out, shrugging his shoulders. Atemu briefly took another glance around the room. _Yuugi's room,_ he thought again before letting his gaze fall upon the other boy. A kind of uncertain tension began to fill the space. Yuugi shuffled his feet, hands moving to grip at his elbows. 

“I like your room,” Atemu said lamely. He really did not want to screw up whatever they had. He wanted to stay in Yuugi's life, be it as a friend or … Atemu thought of the kiss they had shared earlier, something _more._ A mild heat took over his face, he _especially_ hoped for more. 

“Thanks,” Yuugi's small voice cut through the air and both boys stared at the ground between them. Atemu seemed to find the carpet fascinating, almost as if it held all the secrets of the world. Yuugi stared like he had never before seen the floor he had walked over for the past fifteen years of his life. It was quiet again. A shy quiet, unoppressive, but tantalizing. It teased their awkwardness with each other, reminding them of the scene that had taken place in the living room maybe five minutes previous. 

“Well,” Atemu broke the silence. It was unclear if his attempt to rip answers from the light blue carpet had been successful, but he was finally able to speak, a crooked smile on his face, “we can continue to stand here awkwardly, or we can” – he waved his hands as if motioning to the room itself – “maybe continue where we left off earlier?” 

Eyes wide, Yuugi gawked at Atemu, cheeks burning. He opened his mouth uselessly before tightening his hold on himself. His skin hummed excitedly at the suggestion, but he had never expected Atemu to be so forward about it. And for that matter, he did not even know if he could do it again. Their kiss had been so unexpected and while he suddenly craved more, he did not think his nerves could handle it. As it was, his stomach was flipping so much, he felt nauseous. With his luck, if he attempted to kiss Atemu again, he would throw up on him; that was a scenario Yuugi did not think he could ever recover from. Despite his nerves, however, his skin tingled everywhere Atemu's gaze fell. Those ardent eyes settled upon him like a brand and Yuugi could not deny that it felt _good._

“I – uh, I don't think – I don't think I'm r-ready,” Yuugi stammered. 

Atemu felt a little confused with Yuugi's abrupt nervous reaction. Yuugi looked so flustered, his face a bright red, those beautiful eyes wide and surprised. 

“Oh,” Atemu said, even more confused, “If you don't want to talk about it, I guess that's okay, but I thought – you said you wanted to know...” He frowned, befuddled by Yuugi's change of heart. 

“It's just that I've never done anything like that before. It was my first kiss and … wait what?” Yuugi's blush receded, his forehead creased in his puzzlement. 

“K-kiss?” Atemu's ears heated and his eyes flew open, baffled by Yuugi's words. “What are you talking about?” 

“What are _you_ talking about?” Yuugi retorted, “I thought you wanted to make out!” 

“M-make out! I was talking about the incident from last year that you said you wanted to hear about – _oh.”_ Slapping a palm to his forehead, Atemu was dumbstruck with realization, flushing to the roots of his hair for the second time that day. His heart pounded in his chest, his stomach twisted, and he felt lightheaded. “You thought I meant – n-no! I mean, yes – I mean, I would love to – dammit,” Atemu grabbed at his hair in frustration before rubbing his eyes, sighing. “...I'm going to shut up now,” he mumbled pitifully. 

“Well, this is embarrassing,” Yuugi laughed, “we were thinking different things. I misunderstood. Sorry.” 

“No,” Atemu moaned behind his hands, “it's my fault. I wasn't clear enough, I don't blame you for taking it the way you did.” 

But Yuugi was still chuckling and the boy came forth to pull Atemu's hands away from his blushing face. 

“Come on,” he pulled Atemu across the room and took a seat on the bed, motioning to the empty space beside himself. “Sit.” And Atemu sat. 

“We both messed up a bit, I think,” Yuugi giggled, earning himself a wry smile from the older boy. 

“Indeed,” Atemu replied, before taking a deep breath, “so um, you wanted to know what exactly happened last year?” 

With that single question, the mood in the room turned somber. The light itself appeared to be dimmer than before, but both boys paid it no mind. Yuugi's smile faded as he nodded, shifting to face Atemu and crossing his legs to make himself more comfortable. 

“Please tell me,” he said. 

Atemu looked away. He sat rigid on the bed, hands coming together on his lap, he frowned to himself. Yuugi did not make a sound, patiently waiting for him to begin his tale. Atemu almost did not want to tell him. Yuugi would hate him in the end. Of that, he was sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for a while. I'm amazed I was even able to upload this at all (pure luck). I still don't have a laptop or access to my documents, but I managed to scrounge up this chapter from my email (god bless the internet). It took me three entire days to get this up!


	12. The Date - Blind Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Yuugi's behest to learn of his dark past, Atemu spills all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Anniversary Special of Misfits In Love.
> 
> "The fuck is the Anniversary Special?" you may ask. Well, it just so happens that one year ago on January 17, 2015, I started writing Misfits In Love. For those who may not be aware, MIL is my first yugioh fic. It started my descent into yugioh hell and I've since spent my time looking back with regret bc this is HELL.
> 
> Anyway, I just had to get a chapter out for this very special day, so enjoy the extra-long goodness(?).
> 
> **Warning: Language, Character Death; nothing too detailed, but might be a little disturbing for some readers.**

“Before I start,” Atemu murmured, lifting his head to meet Yuugi's warm, focused gaze. The stare pierced right through him, as though he were naked. It felt like he was under a microscope that could see every little lie tucked underneath his skin. Those violet eyes did not hold any disgust, not yet anyway. They did not even look fearful. Atemu wanted to drown in them, stare until he went blind from the strain. Unclasping his hands, he slowly reached out, watching for any sign of discomfort. When Yuugi did not move away, Atemu slid his fingers across Yuugi's soft cheek, cupping his face.

“...Atemu?” Yuugi murmured.

The breathy whisper of his name made Atemu ache. He felt it, deep in his chest, a persistent throb to take Yuugi into his arms and hold on tight. The desire to lay kisses across his skin and watch him shiver with the touch of his lips was a temptation that called to Atemu like a siren in the middle of an endless ocean. He let his thumb trace the curve of Yuugi's warm cheek, committing the feel to memory before removing his touch completely, much to his own displeasure.

“Sorry,” he told Yuugi, fighting the wicked shudder going down his spine. He tingled all over; goosebumps flowering over his skin and trailing up his arms, around his back, and up his neck to his scalp. His desire to kiss Yuugi burned on his lips and he ran his tongue over them briefly to try and tame the heat. Chewing the inside of his cheek, Atemu gulped dryly and Yuugi smiled at him. He wanted to keep that smile. Keep it tucked into the center of his heart, to warm him for the rest of his days.

Yuugi placed a hand on his. Smiling gently, he said, “I don't mind.”

Atemu's heart skipped a beat.

“...right,” he said, keeping his gaze locked with Yuugi's. Atemu took a deep breath and he began. “That night, we … meaning Melvin, Bakura, and I were heading for the midnight premiere of a movie Bakura had been whining about since it had been announced –” Yuugi chuckled at that and Atemu's heart swelled at the wonderful sound. He cleared his throat, attempting to unstick the heart lodged in it.

“We still had time to waste and I was hungry,” Atemu continued, his voice slightly hoarse, “I wanted some burgers, so I dragged them to Burger World.” He paused, trying to let any saliva left in him coat his dry mouth. “When we got there, we sat, we ordered. Everything was fine, but then a detective showed up...

 

 _A fifteen-year-old Atemu sat with a rumbling stomach_ and a sour mood. He was rather displeased, as usual and it showed on his face with his grimly lined lips and furrowed brow. Beside him, his cousin's loud belching was not making things any easier.

“That was weak,” said Bakura from across the booth after a particularly abrupt burp, “try again. Louder this time.”

“Alright,” Melvin said, taking the challenge. Shifting his body, he slumped in the chair, taking a large gulp of air. He swallowed it down, waiting a second before he brought it back up and opened his mouth wide. A loud burp left Melvin then and Atemu glanced around, noting the disgusted faces of the surrounding customers. They only began to look away when a new arrival entered the restaurant; a man in a trench coat who went directly to a passing employee. Turning back to Melvin, Atemu jabbed him in the side to get his attention. Annoyed, Melvin turned to him and Atemu glared.

“If we get kicked out because of you,” Atemu said lowly, “I'm going to put a hole in your throat. I'm hungry – don't fuck up.”

“Oh, joy,” Melvin sighed as he turned to Bakura, slumping further into his seat, “Atemu's moody again.”

“What do you mean _again?”_ Bakura snorted, earning himself a livid glower from Atemu. Rolling his eyes, he waved a placating hand at Atemu. “Geez, chill, drama queen. What is _up_ with you lately?” He waited for Atemu's threatening reply, or perhaps an attempt to jab him in the throat. Yet Atemu said nothing, his eyes glaring daggers at Bakura as the eerie silence dragged on. It was when Bakura began to think he could not take the staring contest, that Atemu turned his gaze to the window, sighing quietly.

“Go fuck yourself,” Atemu said, but it was a bored and almost lazy insult. Bakura blinked and stared at him for several moments before finally turning to Melvin. Atemu saw him make several gestures from his peripheral vision, and he could feel the displacement of wind at his back as Melvin gestured back, communicating silently, until Bakura made a frustrated sound and let the back of his head hit the seat.

Bakura fiddled idly with the edges of his black trench coat, a ridiculous thing Atemu would normally poke fun at him for wearing. This went on in silence for several minutes before he sighed heavily.

“What's taking so long?” Bakura groaned, “We're going to miss Star Trek at this rate.”

“Who cares?” Atemu said to his reflection in the window, his voice a deadpan that made Melvin sit up and turn to him with a furrowed brow, “It's just a stupid movie.”

“You were really excited about it when it was announced,” Melvin said, “change your mind?” But in response, Atemu only shrugged.

Huffing angrily, Bakura smacked the table with the palms of his hands and said, “I'm going to see what's taking so goddamn long.” And he shuffled out of the booth, to the group of waiters standing close to the kitchen with a man in a tan trench coat. After he had gone, Melvin nudged Atemu's shoulder with the back of his hand.

“Hey,” he said, even as Atemu continued to look past his reflection in the window to the darkened street, “how about that stupid coat Bakura's wearing?” He laughed, but Atemu did not even bother to look at him. Scowling, he tried again. “He looks like a stupid bat, right?” Nudging Atemu insistently with his elbow, he added, “Let's call him Batman from now on.”

“Neat,” was all Atemu said and it sounded so bitter that Melvin screwed up his face as though he had tasted the words. He huffed a breath and sighed, slumping back against his seat in defeat.

“Guys!” Bakura hissed, eyes manic as he skidded to a stop beside the booth, “You won't believe this shit. There's a fucking convict in this place!”

“A what now?” Melvin perked up, interested. Beside him, Atemu glanced around, mildly curious. Sitting up completely, Melvin leaned close, waiting to hear more when the man in the trench coat came up behind Bakura and grabbed him by his collar. Bakura let out a ruffled squawk of indignation as he was pulled around.

 _“Now wait just a second there, where do you think_ you're _going?” said the man with suspicion written all over his face –_

 

Yuugi let out an explosive laugh at that and Atemu paused mid-word, bemused by Yuugi's reaction.

“I'm sorry,” Yuugi gasped, “but _Bakura!”_

“Yeah,” Atemu said, “the detective thought he was the culprit because, apparently, the man he was looking for was a master of disguise and Bakura looked _suspicious_ … I would have been shocked if he _hadn't_ thought him suspicious.” He shrugged and Yuugi snorted as he continued to laugh. Atemu waited for Yuugi's giggles to subside. He did not want them to stop. But then they did and Yuugi nodded at him to go on. Sighing, Atemu knew he could not delay the inevitable.

“So … while Bakura was being harassed by the cop,” Atemu said, “that waitress you spoke to at Burger World noticed the actual thief trying to sneak out past them...

 

 _“Would ya let go?” Bakura growled, trying to shake_ the cop off of him, “You got the wrong guy! I didn't do shit – I'm a fucking minor! This is harassment!”

“Hey!” A soft feminine voice called out, garnering the attention of the cop, “That guy's trying to sneak away!” Everyone in the vicinity turned around to see a short, thin, shifty-looking man trying to crawl towards the door. Upon being spotted, he cursed loudly and leapt to his feet. He rushed to the door and the man holding Bakura dropped him as he gave chase.

As he headed for the door, the shifty-looking man ran around the manager in the way and hit the corner of a table. Yelping in pain, he tripped, arms flailing wildly before seizing the manager's shirt and ripping it clean off, exposing his tattooed back for all to see; a giant purple spider that not a single person could miss.

At that moment, the cop grabbed the runaway, pulling his beanie off to expose his blonde hair. Confirming his capture, he began to arrest the convict, when his eyes went to the manager desperately trying to pull his shirt back on.

“You!” the cop called out in alarm.

But before anyone knew what was happening, the manager reached into the detective's coat and grabbed his gun. He struck the cop across the temple with the butt of it and knocked him to the ground, criminal and all.

_“Stay down!” the manager shouted as he began to wave the gun around, “Everyone, on the ground now!”_

 

“Oh, my god.”

Yuugi's eyes widened, entranced by his tale. Atemu absently rubbed the hand Yuugi had placed on his, a wry grin on his face. Sighing, he said, “That's when everything went to hell...

 

 _Immediately, people moved out of their seats_ and onto the floor, panicked whispers and sobs filling the room.

“Holy shit,” Bakura said and dove for the floor.

“Hands on your head, all of you!” the manager-turned criminal shouted. And soon, every last person in the restaurant was on the ground with their hands covering their heads … all except for Melvin and Atemu. Looking at them, the redheaded man pointed the pistol at them, eyes narrowed. “You too! On the floor!”

“Ugh, are you serious?” Melvin groaned as he looked to Atemu, “We're gonna miss the fucking movie, dude.” He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the man with the gun and snorted. “Who does this fuck think he is?” But Atemu only shrugged at him in answer, his eyes narrowed on the manager with the weapon.

“You deaf?” the man yelled, “Get the fuck on the floor!” He fully turned towards them, stepping closer and pulling back on the hammer of the gun. “I said 'get on the fucking floor'!”

“Piss off,” Melvin said in annoyance, making to stand, “I got better shit to do than – oomph!”

Abruptly, Melvin was on the ground, cursing and rubbing at his back where Atemu had kicked him down. He tried to stand then, incensed, when Atemu hissed at him.

“Shut the fuck up and stay down, you stupid shit,” he said, watching with wary eyes as the man approached.

“You too,” the redhead hissed, “get your ass on the floor.”

“Are you kidding me?” Atemu retorted, “Have you _seen_ these floors?” He motioned to said floors and then to his blue button-up. “My shirt costs more than your entire fucking wardrobe.”

The man made to grab Atemu then, but swiftly turned at the sound of running footsteps. Atemu looked as well, curious, only to see a girl running for the door. The man gave chase, easily catching her by her brown hair and hauling her back to the booth Atemu was nonchalantly sitting in. Shoving her onto the seat across from him, the manager smirked.

“That was pretty stupid, girlie,” he said, “that handkerchief in your hair, take it off and tie it around your eyes.” When she hesitated he pointed the gun to her nose. “Now,” he said and she did. She quickly pulled it off and wrapped it around her wide blue eyes, her hands shaking terribly. “Good, now you,” the man turned the gun on Atemu, “I'm guessing you won't piss yourself if I make a request. Get me some cigarettes and liquor. Might as well enjoy myself.”

“Do I look like your fucking maid?” Atemu scoffed, “Get them yourself.”

Instantly, the gun was pressed against the girl's head and Atemu raised an eyebrow at the man, bemused.

“Do it,” the man snarled, “or I blow her goddamn brains out.”

Yet, Atemu made no move to follow his orders, simply staring at him with bewilderment. _Angry, the man jabbed the barrel into the girl's temple, causing her to sob with sudden fear._

 

Atemu paused.

Yuugi was looking right at him, his beautiful, plum-colored eyes wide with astonishment. Atemu wanted to look away from those anticipating eyes. He did not want to see the horror that would fill them. He liked Yuugi so much already; he was addicted to those sweet smiles and, though he had only kissed him once, Atemu was wholly underneath the thrall of those lips. He wanted to keep Yuugi, to stay by his side with those lovely eyes and breathtaking grins. Taking a shaky breath, he licked at his lips and said, “I was going to l-let him.”

Atemu closed his eyes then, his gut filling with shame.

“Why?”

There was no disgust in that question. No horror. Not a single discernible emotion. Atemu opened his eyes to see Yuugi's earnest expression. His heart was beating so fast. Yuugi did not look upset and Atemu could not fathom why.

“Why?” he echoed, “Because … I didn't know her. I had no attachment. She meant nothing to me.” He hesitated before saying, “I wasn't in the best place back then. I was going through some stuff and I was mad that this idiotic man expected me to obey him because of some sense of moral obligation.” Atemu grit his teeth at the reminder, the way those past words had hurt his pride. He was twisted and messed up, he knew that. However, his monstrous ways had never bothered him until now. Only upon meeting Yuugi did Atemu ever wish he were someone else. He desired to be someone who deserved Yuugi, someone who was not filthy and rotten to his very bones. He had never wanted Yuugi to find out the truth.

Atemu sighed. Yuugi deserved to know what kind of monster he was. He would not lie to Yuugi.

“The only reason I changed my mind about letting him shoot her,” Atemu said, “was because I wanted to let him know that he was an idiot for thinking he could control me. So I did as he wanted.” Atemu held fast to Yuugi's hand. He broke eye contact and stared at the pallid skin between his fingers. He was unwilling to let go. So afraid of losing that tethering touch of reality that he did not even realize that Yuugi had made no move to get away.

“I brought him vodka,” he continued, “I brought him cigarettes...

 

 _Placing a pack of cigarettes, a bottle_ of vodka, and a glass on the table, Atemu looked down at the lighter in his hand, an idea forming in his head.

“Sit,” the man instructed, grabbing the carton and tapping the end of it on the table with one hand as the other pointed the gun at Atemu. Gritting his teeth, Atemu sat across from him, watching as he opened it.

“Since we're probably going to be here a while,” Atemu said carelessly, a slight smile on his face even as he seethed on the inside. His stomach rolled and frothed with anger and indignation. The desire to reach across and slam the man's face into the table was almost overwhelming. Yet Atemu let his rage simmer inside of him, refusing to let it show. “How about a game?”

“A game?” the man snorted as he set the carton back down, eyebrows raised. He single-handedly opened the bottle of vodka, taking it into his hand. “You're joking, right?” he said as he began to slowly pour himself a glass.

“No,” Atemu said, setting down the lighter before raising both his hands and wiggling his ten fingers, “it's really easy and fun. We both pick one finger to use and make a move. If we use any other, we lose.” He took the carton of cigarettes, holding it out for the man to take one between his lips. When he did, Atemu took the lighter back into his hand and said, “I choose my thumb.”

“You're a moron,” the man said, “I'm not playing your goddamn game.” He wiggled the hand with the gun, snorting for a second time. “How about I just shoot your stupid ass?”

A sick, perverted feeling of relief filled Atemu then and he grinned.

“Go for it,” he said, “life is a shitty disappointment anyway. All people do is lie to you your entire life … but before you do.” He lifted the lighter, motioning to the man's unlit cigarette. The man eyed him strangely, almost with confusion, before disregarding Atemu's comment and nodding graciously, lips pulling up into a smirk as Atemu flicked the lighter open with his thumb and struck it. He stood up at the table and leaned in close, placing his hand right next to the glass as he did. As he lit the cigarette, his hand jerked and collided with the glass.

Surprised, the man dropped the bottle he was holding, and the alcohol spilled all over his clothes.

“You son of a bitch!” the man cried as he leapt up, the cigarette flying from his lips, and Atemu tossed the lighter. Immediately after, Atemu grabbed the table and launched it aside. Reaching out, he grabbed the girl, tugging her out of her seat and to the ground as the man let out a scream. Once she was out of danger, he stood and turned around. _Atemu watched as the man went up in flames, his agonized screams piercing his ears._

 

“...not much else to say about it, really.”

Atemu stared hard at the pale skin trapped betwixt his fingers. He did not notice his trembling. Nor did he notice the burning at the corner of his eyes. He also did not notice his shaky breaths. The only thing Atemu noticed was Yuugi's palm gently pressing against his cheek. He looked up, stunned, and Yuugi wiped away his pooling tears. So astonished by the gesture as he was, Atemu could not even find it in himself to be embarrassed by his crying.

“Are you okay?” Yuugi asked and Atemu was taken aback by the question. He stared, shocked.

“What – I'm fine,” he said shakily.

“You're trembling,” Yuugi said gently, “and you're really pale.”

“I'm fine,” Atemu repeated hollowly. But he was not fine. He took deep breaths to clear the panic from his body, to calm his pounding heart. “Anyway, you're acting like I didn't just tell you I murdered someone.”

“You pulled her out of harm's way,” Yuugi said slowly as he cupped Atemu's cheek. His eyes were sad and Atemu was entranced by them.

“What?” he said, confused.

“The girl,” Yuugi said, “you saved her.”

“...she would have been caught in the fire if I hadn't,” Atemu said with a stilted shrug and he felt even more baffled when Yuugi gave him a small smile.

“Maybe you're not as monstrous as you think,” Yuugi said, “if you really hadn't cared what happened to her, you wouldn't have done that. And that's what I'm going to focus on. Do you regret what you did to that man?”

“I don't think you want me to answer that,” Atemu replied shortly, shoulders stiffening.

“Atemu –”

“He deserved it,” Atemu bit out with conviction, “At first I felt bad, what about his family, what if he had been a decent person before resorting to crime, but then I learned about what he'd done. He'd hurt people. He'd stolen and killed – that son of a bitch _deserved_ it.” Atemu closed his eyes, breathing slow. The sound of blood rushing in his ears was so loud, almost deafening. In the corners of his vision, the darkness was creeping in. The air felt thin and Atemu felt like he could not breathe, but he forced the feeling down. He would not give into it. Instead, he focused on the smooth hand between his fingers, the warm digits still touching his cheek. He reminded himself that it was Yuugi he was with. He even focused on the bed he sat on, grounding himself and pushing away the panic that clenched at his chest.

“Atemu?” Yuugi said worriedly, “Are you sure you're okay? You don't look so well.”

“I just need a second,” Atemu said breathlessly.

“Do you need anything?” Yuugi asked and Atemu squeezed Yuugi's hand in answer. He felt Yuugi take both of his hands then, rubbing his thumbs into Atemu's skin in rhythmic circles. Relieved at his understanding, Atemu focused on Yuugi's caress and his quiet breathing. Within the minute, his body began to wind down, much to his relief.

“Okay,” Yuugi said softly into the silence and Atemu was grateful for his calm voice. He took a breath, holding it before he slowly let it out.

“...do you want me to go?” Atemu asked when he felt calm enough to speak normally. He entwined his fingers with Yuugi's and sighed. He would take this feeling with him as he was certain Yuugi would make him go. If he were Yuugi, he would be unable to forgive what he had done. So Atemu waited, dreading Yuugi's next words.

“If something like that happened again,” Yuugi said carefully, “would you do the same thing?”

Atemu considered the question. He had grown since then. That year, his sense of purpose had shifted when Malik and Ryou had ingrained themselves in his life. He had become less bitter with the younger pair around. Ryou had always been kind and he had made a point to stick around Bakura and Atemu, worried they would do something stupid.

Malik had followed Ryou's lead. Before that time, Atemu had not really associated with Malik beyond the times Atemu would escape to his cousins' house to forget his misery. Yet the two younger brothers befriended him without fear and he could no longer turn a blind eye to someone asking for help. Having had to constantly beat up the bullies after the pair had ingrained in him a sense of justice. Now, whenever he picked on the weak, it was only ever when he was too hungry to care or follow his strange code.

When Atemu really thought of it, ever since the incident at Burger World, he had begun acting as a vigilante with Bakura and Melvin. Yet with the two younger ones constantly around, Atemu had become protective of his little cousin and Ryou, which had in turn, led to his change from bitter and hateful to righteous and … still bitter, but _less_ lonely. And, maybe, less lonely was the key to his change. The oddness of the whole thing was definitely something to examine later, but right now Yuugi needed an answer.

“I wouldn't risk a life a second time,” he finally said, opening his eyes. He was certain he would put a stop to the situation, he was _not_ certain, however, if he would kill to resolve it. “I don't like bullies – and I know how that sounds, coming from _me,_ but I haven't hurt anyone weaker than me. Since _then,_ I only ever dealt what people deserved and I only ever harassed kids when I was hungry.”

“So,” Yuugi frowned at him, “you're saying the reason you're a bully is because you're hungry?”

“Well, when you say it like _that,”_ Atemu mumbled, ashamed.

“Atemu,” Yuugi rolled his eyes, “you're unbelievable –”

“But I stopped,” Atemu pleaded, “I stopped when I saw how mad it made you. I even started getting my own lunch –”

“You stopped because of me?” Yuugi's hand jerked in surprise and Atemu held fast to it, but Yuugi did not pull away.

“Well,” he gulped, “yeah. I didn't want you to be mad at me.”

Yuugi's round, astounded eyes did not even blink. He stared at Atemu, mouth parted, eyebrows so high on his forehead, they vanished under his blonde bangs.

“So,” Yuugi licked his lips, finally capable of speech, “if I said to never hurt anyone ever again, to not fight, to drop the Batman act –”

“I'll do it for you,” Atemu whispered.

The admission was tender, solemn, and almost imploring. Yuugi pulled his hands from Atemu's grip and he reluctantly let go. Atemu was about to abandon hope when Yuugi placed his hands on Atemu's cheeks and pulled him close. There was a brief moment of surprise from both before Yuugi leaned in. Full of purpose, Yuugi clumsily meshed their lips together, his eyelids fluttering to a close.

Atemu inhaled sharply, burgundy eyes wide before he wrapped his arms around Yuugi, one hand slipping up to entwine his fingers in the purple strands of his hair, the other enveloping his back. Atemu squeezed his eyes shut and bliss poured into him, hot and searing. His entire body shuddered and ached and he tugged Yuugi closer to himself. Anxiousness gone, Atemu pressed against him, alleviated and feeling lighter than he ever had.

All thought had fled his mind and he could only feel Yuugi. The firm press of Yuugi's lips, the smooth line of his body; Atemu was in heaven, his heart pounded against his ribcage, feeling about to burst. The winged beasts in his stomach had taken such flight that he no longer felt he had a stomach at all. It was gone and so was he. Those glorious lips moved against his own and Atemu merrily followed suit.

Then Yuugi's hand wound itself into his hair and a reckless shiver snaked down Atemu's spine. The other hand slipped from his cheek to his shoulder, wrapping around his back and pulling Atemu even closer. Yuugi's lips were damp and warm, and his own felt chapped, but Atemu did not mind. This kiss was even better than their first and his heart was filled to the brim with delight. If an asteroid were to strike the earth at that moment, Atemu would have died a happy man.

In reality, though, there was no asteroid, but there _was_ a knock at the door. Surprised, Atemu jerked, accidentally yanking Yuugi to him. He winced as Yuugi's teeth struck his lip, pulling away with a wet sound to see Yuugi blush, a nervous giggle leaving his mouth.

“Sorry,” Yuugi whispered as another knock sounded. They turned their heads to the door and Mama Mutou's anxious voice filtered through the wood.

“Yuugi,” she called, “is your friend staying for dinner? It'll be at six.”

The pair looked to each other. Yuugi cleared his throat.

“Um,” the younger boy's breath blew across Atemu's lips so sweetly that Atemu had to hold back from kissing Yuugi senseless, “would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I'll do anything you wish,” Atemu blurted out, unable to control himself.

“Anything?” Yuugi said as his blush spread to his ears.

“I don't seem to have any discernible shred of dignity when it comes to you,” Atemu groaned, “So, yes, anything.” He sighed, letting his head fall lightly onto Yuugi's, pressing their foreheads together fondly. The contact felt infinitely more intimate than their spirited embrace. Yuugi stared up at those gorgeous, violet-red irises and forgot how to breathe.

“Yuugi?” Mama Mutou knocked once more, persistent, “Are you there?”

Yuugi finally sighed and retracted himself from Atemu, trying to ignore the intense cry of disappointment from his heart.

“Y-Yeah, mom,” he responded shakily, giving Atemu an apologetic look. “What about your parents?” he asked Atemu seriously and Atemu shrugged.

“They won't even notice I'm not there –”

“You should still call and ask them first,” Yuugi stressed. He could not believe that Atemu's parents would not notice their son's absence. He doubted that _anyone,_ for that matter, could ignore Atemu's presence.

“Okay, I'll call and ask,” Atemu acceded. He dug into his pocket for his phone and Yuugi made his way to the door, opening it to speak with his mother. Atemu fished the phone out and powered it on. While he waited for it to boot up, he could hear Yuugi informing his mother that Atemu would be asking for permission.

“I'll let you know, mom,” Yuugi said and Mama Mutou left, but not without a suspicious peek inside the room. The door was closed and Atemu was joined by Yuugi then. The boy sat beside him, fidgeting with nerves. Atemu could tell that Yuugi wanted to say something by the way he kept glancing at him. Most likely, Yuugi wanted to discuss what just happened if the bright blush was anything to go by. But, not wanting to scare him off, Atemu kept his gaze on his phone and waited for Yuugi to begin.

“Sorry,” Yuugi finally whispered.

Atemu looked up at him in surprise, even as his phone began vibrating with missed messages.

“I'm fine,” Atemu shrugged, rubbing at his lip. It had not hurt much.

“Not that,” Yuugi said before shaking his head, “well that too, but I meant sorry for kissing you like that.” He fidgeted with his hands and raised them to pull on his bangs before shoving them behind his ears. “I should have asked first.”

“Yuugi,” Atemu said gently, shaking his head, “it's okay, you can –”

“Your phone is vibrating,” Yuugi whispered, interrupting him.

“Right,” he replied.

Atemu looked down to his phone to see fifteen new messages, two voice mails, and several requests for app updates in his notification window. He opened his messages to see Bakura, Melvin, and Ryou's threads marked with numbers. Opening Bakura's first, he read:

 

**From _Thing2_ :**

**Ryou n Melvin say U R**

 

**From _Thing2_ :**

**R U w da shrimp or no**

 

**From _Thing2_ :**

**did he dump u or smthg**

 

**From _Thing2_ :**

**Melvin's axing if u need hug**

 

**From _Thing2_ :**

**need t borow ur math hmwk**

 

 _Typical Bakura,_ Atemu frowned before switching to Melvin's messages.

 

**From _Thing1_ :**

**do you need a hug.**

 

**From _Thing1_ :**

**hey, is Malik, wut hapnd w/Yugi????**

 

**From _Thing1_ :**

**did u hurt him??**

 

**From _Thing1_ :**

**U bttr not hurt him!!!!!!!**

 

**From _Thing1_ :**

**ANSWR UR DAM FONE**

 

**From _Thing1_ :**

**dnt u dAre lend Kura ur hmwrk!!!!!!!!**

 

**From _Thing1_ :**

**Ur mom called.**

 

Atemu refrained from sighing at his cousin's antics before rereading the last message three more times.

 _My mom called?_ he thought with incredulity. Atemu tapped at his phone in a halfhearted attempt to call Melvin before going back to see Ryou's messages.

 

**From _miniBakura_ :**

**Touzoku says you are not answering  
your texts. Is everything okay? Plea**

 

**From _miniBakura_ :**

***Please let us know if Yuugi is safe.  
We are worried.**

 

**From _miniBakura_ :**

**Are you alright?**

 

Feeling slightly guilty, Atemu launched a quick text to Ryou. Yuugi was Ryou and Malik's friend. Of course they would be worried. They knew Atemu was dangerous. For all they knew, Atemu could have hurt Yuugi and left him bleeding somewhere. And though his heart hurt with the very thought of Yuugi in any pain at all, he did not blame his cousin and Ryou for thinking that Yuugi could be _not_ okay.

 

**To _miniBakura_ :**

**Everything's fine. Yuugi's safe. I'm at  
his house. TTYL.**

 

Knowing that Ryou would alert Malik to Yuugi's continued well-being, Atemu switched over to his voice mails. One was from Melvin, though he had a high suspicion that it would not actually be Melvin leaving the message. The other was from his mother. He took pause, eyes wide.

“Something wrong?” Yuugi asked. Having noticed the preoccupied expression on Atemu's face, he shifted closer, placing an unsure hand on Atemu's bicep. “You look worried.” Silently, Atemu looked at Yuugi, meeting his concerned, violet eyes.

“My mom called,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the Anniversary Special. I had, quite secretly, been working on it bc it's been an entire year since I started writing yugioh fanfiction and needed something to mark the day. One year of hell. I miss my other fandoms. I think I might start writing Sterek fanfiction again, just for a change. And let me tell you, writing fanfiction by phone is NO EASY TASK.
> 
> Anyway, back to my hiatus bc I am exhausted after writing this entire thing by phone (5,000+ words really isn't easy, dude).
> 
> _Let me remind you that you do not need an account with ao3 to comment -- the e-mail you use is not displayed to anyone (not even me)._
> 
> Also, did anyone get the joke of the chapter title? "Blind Faith" = Blindshipping -- Yeah, I know, I'm super not funny.
> 
> Btw, has everyone forgotten that Atemu has a date with Anzu? 'Cause I sure have not. Thank you for reading! Bye!


	13. SOS (Please, Someone, Help Me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryou is not sure how to deal with the fallout between Malik and his brother. However, they seem to be handling it just fine by ignoring the elephant in the room. Also, a call disrupts the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got the song in your head? Good. Welcome to another chapter of Misfits In Love. I'm still sort of on Hiatus. I have my fics, but I only have a phone to work with. As such, new chapters and fics will be very slow in coming. Anyway, enjoy the new chapter.

Malik paced the bedroom. The walls were covered with horror movie posters, like _The Shining_ , _Ju-On_ , and _A Tale of Two Sisters_. There were shelves screwed into one wall and it held a variety of horror-themed books; a ouija board; a small replica of a guillotine, complete with stained blade. In the corner was a bed, the bedspread white with splashes of crimson. On the bed was Ryou, lying on his side as he played a game on his phone. He looked up occasionally at Malik, watching with pursed lips as he paced.

Malik circled the room, arms crossed over his chest, a fretful frown on his face. He tread over a black, faux fur rug, his be-socked feet dragging over it impatiently. Ryou watched petulantly, hoping that Malik would not leave a permanent imprint of his trek on the black rug. It was Ryou's favorite decoration. It had taken a lot of whining to convince his brother to let him buy it; he knew it was tacky and horrible, but he loved it nonetheless. He would never hear the end of it if Touzoku found the rug ruined. He had to make Malik sit before he wore a hole into his rug.

“Malik –” Ryou began, though he was instantly cut off.

“Why the hell hasn't he answered!” Malik snapped, “I'm going to kill him if he hurt Yuugi! Why the hell doesn't Yuugi have a phone, we should get him a phone! Or tags for that dog collar of his so people can return him to us –”

“Malik, I don't think –” Ryou tried.

“Seriously,” Malik interceded yet again, “how does he not have a phone! What kind of teenager doesn't have a phone – don't answer that. Ugh, _why_ can't he just call!” Malik threw his arms into the air in frustration and a soft ding echoed through the bedroom. Malik turned hungrily to the sound and Ryou winced. Malik stepped forward. “Was that … your _phone?”_

Ryou cursed his vulnerable position on the bed and held out a hand as Malik stepped forward.

“It's probably just Touzoku,” he said calmly, shuddering at the frenzied gleam in Malik's eyes. “He probably just forgot a part of the order.” Malik wrinkled his nose at Ryou and huffed angrily. Keeping an eye on his suspicious friend, Ryou checked for the cause of the ding, eyes widening. It was a text from Atemu.

“It's Atemu!” he shrieked without thinking before whimpering in pain as Malik jumped on him. He ripped the phone from Ryou's grasp and opened the message, reading it aloud.

“'Everything's fine',” Malik read anxiously, “'Yuugi's safe' – oh thank _god!_ Ryou, Yuugi's okay” – he patted at Ryou, who grunted unintelligibly underneath him – “wait … _'I'm at his house'!?_ What do you mean _talk to_ _you_ _later!_ Atemu's at Yuugi's house! Oh, my god, they're probably having sex – AGH!” Malik fell to the floor in a heap and Ryou retracted his legs from the air back into their original position with a grimace. He leaned down and took up the phone, rubbing his tender side where Malik's knees had dug into his ribs. He looked at the message and let out a thoughtful hum.

“I really don't think they're having sex, Malik,” he said, smiling apologetically as Malik glared up at him from the floor. “Yuugi doesn't seem like the type to put out on the first date.”

Malik sat up and fixed his rumpled clothes, making sure not a single stretch of cloth was out of place. He then ran his fingers through his blonde hair, shaking it out to throw it back into his glorious sleek style.

“Okay,” Malik said thoughtfully, “but what about Atemu? Do you really think he'll be patient for Yuugi?” When Ryou faltered, he shook a finger at him. “My cousin has abuser written all over him, Ryou. I wouldn't put it past him to force Yuugi to do something he doesn't want.” He crossed his arms worriedly, though he tried his best not to look so. Malik rubbed at his arms and sighed. Ryou shook his head.

“I really doubt that –” he began to say.

“He's my cousin,” Malik shouted, “I _know_ my cousin!”

“No, listen to me,” Ryou said patiently as he lifted himself into a sitting position, “just the past three days, Atemu has changed so much. Haven't you noticed?”

“No,” Malik said stubbornly, arms tightening across his chest. He pursed his lips and sat there defiantly. “And who's to say the change is permanent?”

Ryou could only roll his eyes.

“Malik, have you ever even seen your cousin flirt or try to seduce someone?” he asked pointedly and Malik opened his mouth to argue, but shut it with a click of his teeth. A peculiar expression came across his face and he frowned.

“Oh, my god,” Malik suddenly stared at Ryou with astonishment, “you're right. I don't think he's ever even dated before. He's always been too angry and bitter to notice anyone – god, I don't think he even has a single sex bone in his body. You know, penis aside because I've seen _that.”_

“That … that's some pretty disturbing information and I don't want to know how that happened,” Ryou jerked with a shiver, he looked ill with the thought.

Malik shrugged and waved a hand dismissively.

“Oh, you know,” Malik said nonchalantly, “the same way I've seen all of you naked. I walk in when you're in the shower –”

“You've seen me naked?!” Ryou cried indignantly.

“Well, duh. None of you know how to lock a door,” Malik sneered, face haughty like he could not believe the sights he had been subjected to.

Ryou's face was effused with a deep shade of pink. So embarrassed by Malik's admission was he, that he could no longer speak. In fact, Ryou wanted to just pretend that the past minute had never happened and live the rest of his life one minute behind schedule, blissfully ignorant of what he had just learned.

“What's wrong with your face –” Malik prodded and Ryou held up a hand to silence him.

“Stop talking, please,” Ryou begged, closing his eyes, “I'm deleting the past minute of my life.”

Malik raised an eyebrow at his friend and shrugged.

“You're really weird, Ryou.”

Ryou ignored Malik, opening his eyes as he formed a text to Atemu to thank him for letting them know.

Malik leaned back onto his elbows, letting his hands pick at the rug. He looked up at the ceiling, his pale eyes trailing the glow-in-the-dark bats, spiders, and witch hats stuck there, lips pursed and expression contemplative.

“Now that you've mentioned it, it's really weird,” Malik murmured thoughtfully, “Atemu's never shown interest in anyone before. I just ignored it because he's like an alien pod baby or something. He doesn't even have any porn –”

“Too much information,” Ryou groaned and flopped back onto his bed as he began to play a game with green pigs on his phone, kicking his legs out over the edge of the bed. “Anyway,” he said quietly, “not showing an interest in someone doesn't make him weird – how about we talk about something other than Atemu's nonexistent sex life?”

Malik nodded and changed the subject.

“So, do you think the date went well?” he asked, “You know, considering that he's at Yuugi's place and it's only the first date.”

Brow creased into a frown, Ryou shrugged even though Malik could not see him.

“I don't know, Malik,” he said with a sigh, “I'm just hoping that he didn't scare Yuugi off. I like him and I want him to stay our friend.”

Malik sighed and absently looked at the wall where a clock with dots instead of numbers hung among the posters. It was sleek with a shiny mirror border. He hated it with a passion. He could not stand the fancy-looking thing because he always had to count the black dots to know what time it was when the hands were not on six or twelve.

The ticking of the clock and the sniggering of the pigs and explosions on Ryou's smartphone filled the silence between them and Malik was beginning to feel a slight sense of peace. That is, until he heard the front door open and Bakura's voice ring throughout the apartment.

“Ryou!” Bakura called and Malik glared at the side of the bed, “Come help me with this shit!”

“Guess Touzoku's back,” Ryou said idly as he rolled up off the bed and put down his phone, “C'mon, Malik, let's go help –”

“I'm not going,” Malik said through gritted teeth, “not to help _him.”_ He would not be helping Bakura. He did not even want to be there in his house, but Ryou _lived_ there and Melvin _was_ there and Malik did not like to be alone. Regardless of how much it hurt, Malik pretended the pain did not exist. It seemed to be working so far. The aching need he felt to vanish into thin air and disappear from Bakura's presence had lessened considerably.

“Oh, please, don't get up on my account,” they heard Bakura snarl sarcastically from the living room, “I can handle all this crap by myself.” The front door slammed closed and Ryou sighed as he made his way out his door. He skipped into the living room and to the kitchen, where Bakura was ridding himself of several takeout bags. Ignoring his older brother's bad mood, Ryou washed his hands before he began to pull the various containers from the bags Bakura had dumped onto the table.

“Could you get some bowls,” Ryou directed to his brother, quickly adding, “please and thank you?”

In response, Bakura leveled a seething glare at him before roughly messing with his hair. Ryou let out a disgruntled growl that came out sounding more like a miffed kitten's yip than he intended and fixed his hair with a pout. His smirking brother then did as he asked and set down four bowls before crossing his arms, daring Ryou to retaliate.

Sticking out his tongue, Ryou grimaced as he started opening the boxes.

“Jerk,” he muttered to which Bakura laughed.

“No meat for me!” called Malik as he made his way into the living room with his head held high and his eyes pointedly directed away from the kitchen. He paused briefly at the long white sofa, where Melvin lay, snoring loudly. Melvin's blonde head was thrown over the armrest, arm hanging around the back, the other tucked into the front of his pants where he scratched occasionally, even in sleep. Malik sneered at his sleeping brother and kicked at the sofa as he passed. Much to his annoyance, however, Melvin continued to snore with a wide open mouth, hand shifting in his pants. Scoffing, Malik sat himself in a white armchair adjacent to the matching sofa, settling in with his legs thrown over the armrest and his head on a decorative brown pillow.

In the kitchen, Ryou paused, his hands midway to a carton; small explosions filled the silence, informing Ryou that Malik had taken his phone. He looked up to Bakura in apprehension, watching as his brother stared absently at the food. Bakura had his hand tightly wound around a pair of chopsticks, his knuckles white. Hesitantly, Ryou spoke.

“You _did_ get something vegetarian for Malik, right?” he whispered so said blonde could not hear. His question seemingly ripped Bakura from whatever thought had consumed him. His eyes darted to Ryou and a familiar scowl consumed his features. He scoffed, dropping the chopsticks on the table with a clatter.

“I'm not a child, Ryou,” was Bakura's only reply as he grabbed a container marked across the top with black marker and opened it for Ryou to view the contents. He set it down before his little brother who gifted him a gentle smile when he saw the vegetable stir-fry within.

“Thanks, Touzoku,” Ryou said as he began to serve a bowl for himself and Malik while Bakura took care of his own. He was quiet, and though it was not unusual, Ryou could see Bakura was tense, his shoulders stiff and his movements jerky. His eyes were narrowed and he stabbed unnecessarily at the eel in one carton. Jaw clenched, he poured the stir-fry out, banging on the end of it as though it were stuck inside and consequently spilling glops of it onto the table. With that, Ryou directed his attention back to his own food, sighing. It was when Bakura took two of the four egg rolls that Ryou looked at him again. Waving a hand to get his attention, he spoke.

“Hey, Melvin's gonna want one of those –”

“Yeah, well, you snooze, _ya lose,”_ Bakura snapped and raised the two egg rolls to his mouth, ripping into them with a vicious bite. He leaned forward and chewed aggressively at Ryou who calmly blinked at him with an unamused and slightly disgusted look in his eye. Ryou made to put back his own egg roll, intending to leave it for Melvin. He did not particularly feel like dealing with Melvin's inevitable tantrum when he realized there were no more egg rolls. Ryou really liked how his living room looked and did not wish to see it destroyed.

“You take that bloody egg roll and eat it or I'm going to eat it for you,” Bakura threatened.

Ryou made an aggravated sound and slapped down the egg roll once more, conceding the round to his older brother.

After filling up two bowls, Ryou picked two pairs of chopsticks and tucked them between the spaces of his fingers. He then grabbed the bowls and took them into the living room where he placed them on the glass coffee table. Reaching over, Malik took the chopsticks from his hand without him having to ask.

“Tea, soda, or water?” Ryou asked Malik who instantly asked for a soda as he closed the game and turned off the screen. He placed the phone on the coffee table and sat up to see what Ryou had brought him.

“You sure eat a lot of crap for a vegetarian,” Ryou muttered and yelped in pain when Malik pinched his cheek in retaliation for the comment. He rubbed his stinging cheek and left to retrieve the drinks. Bakura passed him with his own food and beverage, pausing at the end of the couch.

“Son of a – damn, munchkin,” Bakura groaned, “you let Melvin fall asleep? Where the crap are we supposed to sit?”

“You can always shove him off the couch,” Ryou taunted from the kitchen, “or sit at the table we never actually seem to use.”

Bakura set down his food on the coffee table and glared down at a sleeping Melvin. It was so very tempting to follow through on Ryou's suggestion, but Bakura knew the action would be the equivalent of stabbing a sleeping dragon in the eye with a pitchfork.

It would only end with Bakura in pain and a very pissed off Melvin. It was a stupid move, but then, Bakura had never been particularly bright.

Ryou came back from the kitchen only to see Bakura toss himself backwards onto Melvin with a sadistic grin pulling at his face.

_Oh, Touzoku, you are such an idiot._

An angry yowl erupted from the couch and the next thing anyone knew, Bakura was launched over the back of it by a furious, sleep-ruffled Melvin.

“What the fuck, you asshole?!” shouted a very pissed off Melvin.

Rushing over with two blue soda cans in hand, Ryou set them down on the coffee table. He quickly grabbed his egg roll and threw a chortling Malik a glare. Then he turned to Melvin to see him climbing the couch, ready to pounce on his older brother and bravely grabbed his bicep, pulling him away from his objective and shoving the egg roll in his face.

“Food's here!” Ryou said brightly through his fear when Melvin snarled at him.

“Let me go before I –” Melvin growled, before his eyes zeroed in on the roll. He licked his lips. _“_ _I_ _s that a fucking egg roll?”_

Melvin snatched the roll with manic glee and began to nibble at it, a look of pure delight on his features. Behind the couch, Bakura snorted with laughter and Ryou was quick to grab a brown pillow and whip it at him. An irked grunt confirmed he had hit his target and Ryou motioned to Melvin.

“Food's in the kitchen. You should make yourself a plate,” Ryou coaxed lightly, relieved when Melvin nodded and leapt off the couch. After Melvin had sauntered off into the kitchen, Ryou grabbed the backrest and peered over the edge of the sofa, frowning Bakura. His brother was grinning up at him and had not made a single effort to get up, having even tucked the pillow under his head.

“You are going to get yourself killed one day and it's going to be your own dumb fault,” he hissed at Bakura who only shrugged and smirked.

“Shut up and put on _World War Z_ already,” Bakura replied nonchalantly.

Ryou visibly paled and shook his head.

“Oh, no. Not that movie again,” Ryou objected, “you know how much I hate it!”

Bakura finally stood from the ground and scoffed, brushing his clothes from imaginary dust.

“But you _like_ horror movies –” Bakura scoffed.

“Yeah, horror, not zombies!” Ryou said, “Let's watch _Premonition_ , instead –”

“You're gonna have to get over your fear eventually, Ryou.” Bakura braced a hand on the edge of the sofa and went over it in one smooth leap. He rounded the coffee table and opened the cabinet under the television, pulling out the movie he had asked Ryou for as Malik watched out of the corner of his eye. Behind Bakura, Ryou sighed pitifully.

“Fine,” Ryou said morosely, “whatever.”

When Melvin returned with a bowl of rice and beef, and a glass of water, he smacked Bakura upside the head as he passed before making himself comfortable on the couch. Bakura glared and Melvin raised two challenging eyebrows at him, but neither continued their petty fight. So without further horseplay, all four teenagers settled down and started up the movie. Bakura made a point of sitting in the corner of the couch farthest from Malik and Malik stuck his nose in the air, crossing his arms tightly about his chest, determined to remain oblivious to Bakura's existence.

Ryou had wanted to sit adjacent to Malik in the other corner, but Melvin had taken the spot for himself. Disappointed, Ryou pouted and sat in between the two elder brothers since no other choice was available. He was about to begin eating, when Melvin held out half of the egg roll Ryou had given him.

“Want it?” Melvin asked disinterestedly and Ryou smiled, taking it.

“Thanks,” he said and Melvin grunted unintelligibly in return.

“Okay, all of you shut up,” Bakura said, “movie's starting.”

* * *

It was in the middle of the chaotic plane scene that Melvin's phone went off with a demonic screech. Ryou let out a frightened yell, closely followed by Malik who tumbled to the ground in panic. Melvin burst into loud guffaws and Bakura paused the movie in irritation before poking his brother hard in the ribs.

“Really, Ryou?” he rolled his eyes at his shaking little brother who gazed at him with a hurt expression. Bakura groaned and yanked his brother close, patting him on the back awkwardly as Ryou settled down from his fright.

“Oh, it's dear cousin Atemu. Wonder what he wants?” Melvin had pulled out his screaming phone and was gazing thoughtfully at the screen as it rang. Malik stood from the ground and grabbed the pillow he had been using to rest his head on. With a furious growl, he proceeded to start pummeling Melvin who raised his arms in defense, laughing at the embarrassed flush on Malik's face. In the other corner of the sofa, Bakura hid an amused snort.

“Dammit, Melvin, how many times have I told you to change your goddamn ringtone!? Demonic screaming isn't fucking funny anymore! You scared the hell out of Ryou!” Malik dropped his pillow back onto his seat and collapsed onto his armchair, breathing deeply to calm his own frazzled nerves.

Lowering his arms, Melvin only grinned at Malik who flipped him the bird. He lifted his phone to show the caller.

“Melvin, make that noise stop,” Ryou groaned and the noise ceased with a single click of the volume button.

“So what do you guys think Atemu wants?” Melvin asked them as the phone continued to flash a picture of a sleeping Atemu with black writings and drawings on his face. A couple of years ago, Melvin had caught his cousin sleeping and had proceeded to write all over his face with a black magic marker. He had never seen his cousin so angry as he had been that day. Immediately after discovering what he had done, Atemu had fractured his wrist in retaliation, but Melvin had thought it completely worth it. He poised his thumb to answer when Bakura spoke up with a snide tone.

“Probably to let us know that he and that midget are gonna get hitched,” he said snidely, “and then they'll be off to live in a castle with a billion servants and a bloody dragon –”

“Don't call him that!” Ryou shoved at his brother as Melvin answered.

“Yo, Pharaoh,” he said as he switched the call onto the loudspeaker.

_“Melvin!”_ Atemu hissed on the other line, _“_ _get your ass over here right now!”_

The four teens leaned closer to the phone with curiosity.

“Why are you whispering?” Melvin asked, staring at the phone with confusion.

_“Just fucking get over here right now … and bring Malik!”_ Atemu replied, frantic.

“Dude, fucking rude much?” Melvin scoffed, “I don't even know where you are!”

_“I'm at my fucking house,”_ Atemu snapped impatiently, _“get your ass over here –”_

“Why the hell should I?” Melvin teased, a smirk pushing at his cheeks.

_“If you don't – fuck!”_ the line went abruptly quiet and Melvin checked to see if the line had disconnected only to find the call was still ongoing.

“...Atemu?”

The four teens waited anxiously for a response that did not seem to be coming. After a minute of silence, Atemu's voice came again, quieter than before.

_“Melvin, I'll owe you a favor, but for the love of god, get yourself and Malik over here. Quickly!”_

The tone of a disconnected call sounded and Melvin blinked at the phone in his palm as it reverted to its lock screen. The teens were silent until Melvin snorted.

“Drama queen,” he muttered and Malik sat up, alarmed.

“Oh, my god. Do you think he did something to Yuugi?” he asked, glancing around at the three of them. However, when he met Bakura's curious gaze, he faltered, quickly averting his eyes and schooling his expression into one of apathy. He could feel Bakura's scrutinizing eyes on him for several lingering seconds after, and it made Malik's stomach churn until Bakura finally looked away.

Ryou gasped, eyes widening as the worst case scenarios started making their way into his head. Yuugi could be injured, left in a ditch, sold to a human trafficker; the possibilities were endless and terrifying. Hands gripping at the ends of his hair, Ryou suddenly started to feel faint.

“Oh, no. Poor Yuugi,” Ryou said.

“Oh, please,” Bakura suddenly sniggered, “there's no way in hell that he's hurt his precious little flower.”

“What makes you so sure?” Ryou whispered.

Bakura gave his little brother a droll look and shook his head as though he could not believe how blind they all were.

“During lunch today, that asshole almost ripped me a new one just because I raised my voice a little at the guy,” Bakura scoffed disbelievingly, “just, trust me, if he's willing to attack me for that kid...” He trailed off and shook his head again, shrugging. “I'm telling you, Atemu's not going to do anything to him. It's probably just something with the 'rents.”

“Still can't believe he's _gay,”_ Malik said snidely, earning himself a rather amused look from Ryou and a bare glance from Bakura that Malik tried hard to ignore. The silence after his comment went over his head and Malik huffed, tossing a lock of hair over his shoulder. Ryou cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing to Bakura who sat, expression stony. Melvin finally broke the silence and spoke with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

“Please,” Melvin snorted, “we didn't even know if he was _straight.”_

“Good one,” Bakura quipped, “but true.”

“I just hope he treats Yuugi right,” Ryou said quietly.

“He will,” Bakura said with a tone a finality.

Malik and Ryou breathed twin sighs of relief and Melvin cast a skeptical look at Bakura, but did not argue. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and stood.

“Well, I guess movie's over,” Melvin sighed, “he said he'd owe me one, so it must be something good.” He motioned to his younger brother who obediently went to collect his school stuff from Ryou's room. When he emerged with his backpack, Melvin was standing at the open door, shoes on and waiting for him. Malik cast a secret glance to Bakura, but Bakura was not even looking his way. He had already resumed the movie, eyes staring at the screen without blinking. Gritting his teeth, Malik quickly joined Melvin, slipping into his shoes with a disappointed frown as Ryou came up to see them out.

“Malik, text me if it has to do with Yuugi,” Ryou said quietly.

With another glance to Bakura, who had yet to look around, Malik nodded minutely. He followed his brother out the door, refusing to acknowledge the heavy weight sinking his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, Malik and Bakura aren't ready to make up quite yet.


	14. M.E.N.A.C.E.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atemu finds himself in an undesirable situation and impulsively plans his escape. Jounouchi finds out about Yuugi's date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is little more than 4,700 words and I hope that makes people happy because it's a huge pain to edit more than 3,500.

Vivian Wong was a menace; a manipulative, egotistical, nauseating, aggravating, cloying evil. Atemu wanted nothing to do with the girl. When he had embarrassed her during class, he had thought it would be the last he would hear or see of her. He thought he had put an end to whatever little crush she had on him. He had figured that no girl would go after a guy who treated her badly.

He had apparently thought wrong.

As soon as his mother had left to greet her guests, Atemu took one look at what she had laid out and tossed the black dress pants aside. He proceeded to dig through his closet for his own choice and came back out with black, leather pants and a self-satisfied smile. He pulled the clothes on then; a pressed, sangria-colored dress shirt, a black waistcoat, a charcoal-colored tie, and his leather pants. He left his room then and descended the stairs, eyes searching for his mother. As he reached the bottom step, his eyes darted to the door and his wish to return to Yuugi flared in his chest. Grimacing, Atemu turned away from the door and made his way to the parlor.

When Atemu entered the sitting room, his eyes fell upon his mother, watching her face whiten with incredulous fury. At her side, her husband, a man with a trim goatee, plucked brows, and a stern face, minutely stiffened, his hands clenching momentarily. It was more than obvious that they were not oblivious to Atemu's choice of pants, but their pleasant smiles remained. It was far too late to say anything with the _guests_ in the vicinity. And when Atemu's gaze went to them, his stomach plummeted into a void.

“Guests” was a term Atemu loosely applied to the two people in the room; Vivian Wong and her father Zedong Wong were intruders. The sight of them had Atemu heavily considering whether to stay or turn around and walk all the way back to Yuugi's house to take him up on his offer for dinner. As it was, at the rise of his mother's thin eyebrow, Atemu plastered a pleasant, yet false, smile on his face. She introduced him then; first to Vivian's father who seemed just like every other businessman he had ever met, all polite smiles and crinkled eyes. The came Vivian, and Atemu promptly met her gaze with a silent threat. Her smile did not falter, but she did not try to act familiar with him and he was relieved. After greeting the two guests, he politely and apologetically excused himself. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Atemu pretended to take a call as he left the room, his mother watching him with sharp violet-red eyes.

Immediately, Atemu ran back to his room and dialed Melvin, demanding he come quickly as he packed a duffel with his clothes and other necessities. When he heard footsteps, he hid both his phone and the bag. Turning around, he went to the door and peered out, spying a maid at the end of the hall. He waited until she passed his room before returning to the call and his packing. If the maids even heard of his plans, they would undoubtedly alert his mother and that was the last thing Atemu needed. When he hung up on Melvin, and finished packing his things, Atemu went to his window and opened it. Without preamble, he tossed his duffel bag out, watching as it fell two stories before hitting the ground with a thud.

Closing his window, Atemu hurried back to the receiving room, apologized for his absence, and made the mistake of sitting on the same piece of furniture as Vivian Wong who was wearing a surprisingly modest, crimson top with a long black skirt. He sat on a comfortably stiff sofa, a bench comprised of a cherry wood and fitted with cream-colored cushions, and promptly regretted his decision as a triumphant smile pulled at the corners of Vivian's lips. She subtly began making her way closer to Atemu's side and he continually shifted away, wary and uncomfortable. He tossed her a glower he was sure their respective parents would not be able to see and she ignored it; Vivian would just not give up. Never had Atemu imagined that she would have the audacity to show up at his house; he half-hoped it was a crappy coincidence and she had not actually _planned_ it. As she moved again, he readied to do the same. A glare from his mother, however, made Atemu stop dead in his tracks.

The adults were talking about something or other. Atemu was not actually paying attention, anxiously counting the seconds and hoping Melvin would show up. Even at his best, his cousin was unpredictable; Atemu could only pray that the enticing reward of an IOU would tempt Melvin to come. Occasionally, he caught words like _lake_ and _summer,_ but he was too busy trying to keep himself away from Vivian's red claws. Already, he was at the end of the seat with nowhere to go and Vivian was still coming closer. He swore he would cause a scene if she tried touching him. He did not care if it would get him in trouble. Just the thought of her awful hands on him made his skin crawl.

Atemu could not believe that his mother had called him for this. When he had seen her call, he had thought that maybe there had been an emergency of some sort. Much to his surprise, he had instead found out that he was only required to come home for dinner. Had he known that dinner was going to include _Vivian fucking Wong,_ he would have told his mother that he had already made plans and would be unavailable. But his desire to please her had caused Atemu to immediately agree and cut his date with Yuugi short. After all, it had been a while since she had asked anything of him and Atemu had been so eager to spend time with her.

To his grand disappointment, his mother had informed him that he had to attend their business dinner and his hopes had been crushed to dust. That dust had rotted into something indescribable upon sighting Vivian. Said girl slid closer and Atemu clenched his fists in his lap. If she moved even an inch closer, he would stand up and storm off, consequences be damned. He knew he would get hell for it later, but anything was better than the menace beside him. Atemu was so bitterly disappointed by the turn of events. Hindsight told him he should have known his mother would only need him for business.

 _I should have stayed with Yuugi,_ he thought with a sigh.

“My daughter says she attends the same school as you, Atemu,” Vivian's father said pleasantly, tearing Atemu from his thoughts, “that you even share some classes.” Atemu looked at him, jaw clenched as he pretended to be interested in the babble the man let out of his mouth. Vivian looked like him, they had the same brown eyes, round cheekbones, and sleek black hair; it was almost strange to see her in his features. “When I mentioned your parents' dinner tonight, she was delighted to attend. Normally, I have to persuade her with a gift!” Wong chuckled like he had just told an amusing joke and his mother tittered along while her husband laughed politely.

“My school?” Atemu voiced calmly, though he was anything but. His gut churned with acidic upset and his lungs felt like steel, unable to pull in proper breath. “I don't believe I have ever seen her there, much less in any of my classes.”

Beside him, Vivian visibly stiffened at his callous statement and her father's serene smile faltered for only a moment. Atemu did not even bother looking to his mother. He already knew that she was directing an incredulous glare at him; he could feel her glower on his skin, steadily burning into him. A small part of him relished it, but the joy was bittersweet.

“You must be mistaken, Atemu,” the man said good-naturedly, “my Vivian says –”

“My apologies,” Atemu interrupted rudely. The longer he sat there, the less he gave a damn what his mother wanted from him and this ridiculous dinner. He felt betrayed by her, tricked. And if there was one thing Atemu could not stomach, it was being made a fool of. “But I can assure you that I do not recall your daughter at all,” he continued, “you must understand how difficult it is to remember people who don't make much of an impression –”

Atemu was cut off by the sound of the doorbell, much to his and his mother's relief. He cleared his throat and stood.

“Ah, it seems our time has been cut short,” Atemu said, “if you'll excuse me, I have a previous engagement and will be unable to join you for dinner.” He forced a polite smile and risked a glance to his mother and her husband who sat stone-faced and tense. The tension in the room had become so thick that he was sure he could not cut it, even with a perfectly sharpened blade. He bowed and excused himself, swiftly leaving the room and not daring to look back. The echoes of his mother and step-father apologizing profusely for his behavior followed after him until he was too far to properly hear them.

All the while, his stomach roiled and his chest grew tighter in disappointment. With a small sense of relief, he managed to make it to the foyer without issue. Malik and Melvin were let in by one of the maids, and Atemu raised his arm to greet them before he was grabbed by his bicep and swung around.

“How dare you!” his mother hissed at him, taking care to keep her voice quiet, “you go back there and apologize for your atrocious behavior –”

“If you make me go back there,” Atemu spoke, voice deathly quiet, “I'm going to make _sure_ that whatever the hell kind of business venture you're trying for doesn't succeed! I swear, mom, I'll make that little girl cry.”

“Atemu, this isn't just business!” his mother argued, “Zedong Wong's daughter is a perfect match –”

“Finish that sentence and I swear to every god in the world that I'll disown myself from this family!” Atemu threatened.

Mrs. Goutei threw up her hands in exasperation and placed them at her hips, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She looked at the ground and then at him, her face set into firm, hard lines of thin patience.

“What is the matter with you?” she asked, her voice filled with incredulity, “Atemu Goutei, get your ungrateful, little behind back to the parlor, apologize, and you give that girl a chance! It wouldn't kill you to at least try –”

“Do you even know what I did today, mother?” Atemu interrupted loudly and her eyes widened, her head snapping around to glance in panic towards where the parlor lay. He no longer cared for the propriety or etiquette that his mother valued above all else. He wanted to be so far away from her and the viper masquerading around as a girl named Vivian. He never thought the day would come when he would be yelling at his mother. Even during his problematic year, he had never raised his voice to her. He had thought too much of her feelings; cared too much to hurt her. But Atemu was frustrated and pissed off – a bad combination for his volatile personality. His mother turned back to him, her hand raised in a hushing motion that only ticked him off even more. Clenching his hands into fists, Atemu glared at her.

His mother was quiet, her entire demeanor guarded. Moving her hands to her hips, she stood still, knuckles white and fingertips digging into the black cloth of her dress. She struggled to contain her outrage and disbelief. She did not wish to make a scene while she had guests in her home and Atemu knew it well. So well that he would take advantage of it to escape.

“No, of course you don't,” Atemu spat and his mother reeled back, surprised at the tone of his voice, “because you don't give a damn what I do. It's not like I'm your only stepladder! I can screw up all I want, can't I? One rotten egg doesn't matter.” He laughed, but it was sarcastic and hollow. His mother only stared at him, her brow creased and the line to her lips falling.

“Atemu,” she said quietly, “that is not true –” But Atemu scoffed loudly, cutting her off and the crease in her brow deepened.

“As long as I do nothing to soil _his_ precious family name, stay in school with good grades, and don't end up in jail, you're just obliviously happy, aren't you?” he said scathingly, “God, you haven't even asked what happened to my face!”

“Your face? Oh, well what happened? What is this about, Atemu –” his mother began to ask, bewildered, but Atemu was about ready to explode.

“I went out on a date!” he shouted and his voice echoed in the foyer.

Mrs. Goutei shut her mouth with an audible click. She was perplexed by his revelation. Her eyes searched his, filled with confusion and something else that Atemu refused to recognize. Atemu barked a humorless laugh and nodded.

“Yeah, a date!” he confirmed, “Today, I went out with the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life.” He saw the wonder and disbelief on his mother's face and he sighed, raising a hand to his heart. “I went out with someone who makes my heart race and my knees weak, and even if it wasn't that great of a date,” he said breathlessly, “I would not trade it for anything else in the world.

“So _no,_ mother,” he continued with a shake of his head, “I will _not_ give that overdone cow a chance! I am not going to do _anything_ to jeopardize what I'm trying to build with Yuugi. I will _not_ be a rung on your stepladder! I'm your goddamn _son_ and I sure as hell will not be used as a fucking pawn in your … your fucking game!” From the direction of the parlor, Atemu could see his stepfather coming their way, his expression hard and unforgiving. Face twisting into a grimace, Atemu decided it was time to leave. Turning his back on his stunned mother, Atemu paused to see his two cousins standing a little ways away, both wide-eyed and alarmed at his actions. He looked away from them and Atemu tossed one last comment over his shoulder, “I'll be at Melvin's.”

Motioning quickly to his cousins, he crossed the room. The maid that had answered the door and nervously stood by during their argument, hastily opened it again for him and the silent duo. His cousins hurriedly followed him out the door, tossing quiet greetings to his mother before ducking out.

Once outside, Atemu veered off to the left side of the house, pushing through decorative bushes lining the walkway and trudging through the neatly cut lawn. Melvin and Malik looked to each other and waited as Atemu rounded the corner.

“He's doing it again, isn't he?” Malik muttered quietly.

Melvin did not answer. He simply tucked his hands into his pockets and sighed, turning away from watching the corner and to the far skies that were beginning to darken, turning orange and pink with the sunset.

“How long do you think it'll be?” Malik asked.

Melvin, again, ignored his brother's voice as they stood outside the large home, waiting for Atemu's return. Behind him, Malik shifted restlessly, a huffy breath escaping him.

“Can you stop staring dramatically into the distance?” Malik whined, “I'm right here, you know.”

“Yeah,” Melvin acknowledged, “but you're annoying.”

 _“You're_ annoying,” Malik muttered scathingly before huffing indignantly. He was quiet for only a second before he spoke up again with an obviously forced nonchalance. “You should make Bakura take him this time,” Malik said, “I'm sure that prick wouldn't mind – he follows Atemu around so much that they might as well be a _couple.”_

“We're family,” Melvin replied tonelessly, though something about him left no room for argument. He did not fidget in the slightest or turn to look at his little brother when Malik huffed again. He stood still, gazing into the direction of the sunset that hid behind the far-off houses. He did not move even when he heard Atemu's rustling footsteps approaching them. When his cousin came to a stop beside him, Melvin spoke, though he continued to look skyward. “You better have brought your toothbrush. We're still not sharing.”

“Oh, believe me,” Atemu said heavily, moving the strap of the canvas duffel at his side over his head and across his chest, “I'm never forgetting my toothbrush again.” He yanked on the strap and shoved at the bag so it lay against the small of his back. He stepped off the path that lead to the front door and onto the flagstone of the U-shaped driveway. Behind him, Malik sighed loudly.

“Can't we take the car?” he asked, “I do _not_ feel like walking.”

Atemu cast an amused glance at Malik and smirked before walking away. Melvin finally turned his face away from the fading light to copy Atemu. The pair heard Malik groan and jog to catch up with their quicker strides.

“What the hell happened to your face?” Melvin asked Atemu as they walked. It was dusk, the sky was darkening and night was coming. The street lamps were turning on one by one, lighting their way. Atemu looked at Melvin with a frown, his head still in the fight with his mother.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“That stupid bandaid on your cheek,” Melvin grunted, pointing, “don't tell me it's a fashion statement. I don't care if you break my leg, I will punch you in your lame face.”

Raising a hand to his cheek, Atemu touched the bandaid with gentle fingers, his face thoughtful. And to Melvin's surprise, he smiled warmly.

“Long story,” Atemu said, “I cut my cheek and Yuugi put it on me.”

For several seconds, Melvin remained silent, his eyes on Atemu's face, expression inscrutable.

“...lame,” he finally stated before turning away, uninterested. The silence returned, only Atemu's smile remained.

“Melvin, give me a piggy-back ride,” Malik demanded, breaking the silence as soon as they had left the property a good few blocks behind.

“No,” Melvin said shortly.

“So yes?” Malik pressed.

“Hm, no,” Melvin said, though a smirk was beginning to pull at his lips.

“Pretty please?” Malik tried once more, his voice overly sweet and nice.

“How about no?” Melvin rebutted.

“I said please, you jerk!” Malik shouted, dropping his simpering act entirely.

“Good point, but let's stick with no.”

With a loud growl, Malik launched himself onto his brother, throwing his arms around Melvin's neck. The pair stumbled before Melvin caught his balance. Frowning, he shook himself in an attempt to dislodge his little brother, but Malik had wrapped his legs about his waist, refusing to be thrown off. Atemu briefly glanced back, rolling his eyes at his cousins before going on. Melvin grumbled and reluctantly hooked his arms around Malik's legs to support his weight.

“Spoiled brat,” Melvin snarled.

“Yeah, you love me, you smug prick,” Malik said with a victorious smile.

“That's what _you_ think, it's really only 'cause I have to,” Melvin replied, tilting his head to the side to grin at him.

Despite his meanspirited words, Malik cackled.

“Say cheese, fellas.”

Melvin's head whipped around so fast, Malik almost felt disoriented by it. His older brother growled at Atemu who was pointing his phone's camera at them, a smug smirk on his face.

“Why you sonava!” Melvin ran forth, completely forgetting his brother as he dropped Malik's legs and extended his arms with the intent to wrap his hands around Atemu's neck. Malik screeched in fear, holding on for dear life, and Melvin tripped when his ear drum exploded in pain. The brothers went down, Malik's face stretched into comical horror, and Melvin's own expression filled with pain, annoyance, and anger. They fell in a heap and Atemu began to laugh, any thought of his mother, her husband, Vivian, and her father gone from his mind.

* * *

In the Mutou Household, four persons were having dinner. At the square table were seated Mama Mutou, Grandpa Mutou, Yuugi Mutou, and Katsuya Jounouchi. Yuugi had not invited him over, but Jounouchi had arrived soon after Atemu had gone, looking panicked and disheveled. After alerting his family that Jounouchi had arrived, Yuugi made to question Jounouchi on his anxious state of being. But before he could, Yuugi's mother had offered him dinner, interrupting him.

The mention of food had wiped the disastrous look from Jounouchi's face and he had perked up instantly. Even though he seemed better, Yuugi was still worried for his friend. He was deeply concerned for whatever had happened to land that wrecked appearance on Jounouchi's usually cheerful face.

“So, Jounouchi,” Mama Mutou said brightly as they ate, “where is little Honda? I haven't seen him around in the past week.”

“Oh,” Yuugi said abruptly, shaking his head, “he's actually sick, mom. Sorry, I thought I told you.”

“Well, you didn't,” his mother scolded lightly, “poor boy. Yuugi, have you gone to see him?”

At that, Yuugi flushed in shame and ducked his gaze sheepishly. Adjacent to him, Jounouchi hissed emphatically.

“Oh, man,” Jounouchi said, “I totally forgot he was sick.”

“Me too,” Yuugi muttered, disappointed with himself, “this week has been so hectic with the transfer.”

“I got caught up in a dumb project,” Jounouchi added, “you're not the only one who was distracted.”

“Shame on you both!” Grandpa Mutou said, wagging a finger at each in turn. Both Yuugi and Jounouchi lowered their heads, chagrined and shoulders hunching. “What a nice way to treat your friends!”

“We'll visit tomorrow,” Yuugi said apologetically, guilt filling him, “I promise.”

“Well, that's good,” Mama Mutou said approvingly, “more eggplant, anyone?”

“Right here, Mama Mutou!” Jounouchi said eagerly and she smiled at him.

“Jounouchi, did you know little Yuugi had a date today?” Mama Mutou asked with glee as she passed him yet another serving of fried eggplant drizzled with red miso. Jounouchi gratefully let Yuugi's mother pile the food on his plate and paused with a confused expression.

Next to Jounouchi, Yuugi had frozen in his seat. He still had not had a chance to tell his best friend about the new developments of the day. In fact, he had planned to call Jounouchi right before the guy had shown up.

“Date?” Jounouchi said, “Yuugi went on a date?” He turned his head to Yuugi, bewildered. “What? Why didn't you tell me you went on a date, Yuugi? Who's the lucky girl?”

Yuugi pursed his lips at his mother who refused to look at him. Her eyes were fixed on her plate, feigning innocence. Yuugi lowered his eyes to his salmon and picked at it.

“I was going to call you when you showed up,” Yuugi avoided, “I'll tell you after dinner –”

“Quite a looker too!” Yuugi's grandfather added obliviously with a wide smile, “And so polite!”

“Oh, that reminds me,” chirped Yuugi's mother with a thoughtful expression, “what happened to his face? You brought out the first aid kit and everything! I didn't want to ask while he was still here in case it was something embarrassing. You know, boys get embarrassed for the oddest things.” She gave Yuugi a bright smile and Yuugi only stared at his mother in dismay. His eyes darted to Jounouchi who had frozen completely before looking back to his mother.

“Mom!” he said, horrified.

“Wait a second!” Jounouchi said, waving his hands about, “It was a guy – you're _gay?”_

At once, a quiet settled over the table like a shroud and Mama Mutou seemed to realize her mistake. She gasped softly and raised a hand to her mouth, while Grandpa Mutou fixed a calculating stare onto Jounouchi. Across the table, Yuugi fidgeted, staring hard at his food. His gut churned and he set down his chopsticks.

“Maybe,” Yuugi said quietly, “I think I like girls too.”

“Were you keeping it a secret?” Jounouchi asked, betrayal in his gaze, “Dude, I'm your best friend – you know I don't care, right? Have I ever made you feel like you couldn't tell me –”

“No,” Yuugi interrupted hastily, “I was going to call you before you showed up. I just wasn't really sure until today.”

“With that kiss, you must be pretty sure,” teased Yuugi's mother, “oh, and I sent that picture I got of you two kissing to your father!” Immediately, Yuugi blushed, the mortification filling his cheeks while Jounouchi sputtered indignantly.

“I'm still on the fact that Yuugi had a date!” he said, eyes wide. He turned to Yuugi with scandal written on his face. “You _kissed him?”_ His head snapped in Mama Mutou's direction, _“Where is this picture, Mama Mutou?”_

“Jounouchi, no!” Yuugi protested, his embarrassed flush spreading to the tips of his ears.

“Oh, yes, let me get it!” his mother eagerly said as she stood, “It's so adorable –”

“Oh, my god, mom!” Yuugi whined.

“Ooh, there was a kiss? Ashita, you've been holding out on me.” Grandpa Mutou scolded, wagging a playful finger at his mother as she quickly left the room.

“Grandpa, don't encourage her!” Yuugi cried, hands coming up to cover his red face.

And for the next half hour, Yuugi struggled to regain peace, and his dignity, in the shouting household. He did not manage either of his goals and the next thing he knew, his grandfather was howling with laughter at the picture his mother had printed and Jounouchi was staring at it over his grandfather's shoulder, silent as a grave.

Yuugi could only wait for the inevitable horrified reaction.

“Here, Yuugi, I printed an extra one for you and framed it,” Ashita said sweetly as she pressed a golden picture frame into his hands. She patted his head tenderly and began to clear the table that everyone but his grandfather had vacated. “Time for some tea, I think,” she said as she picked up the dishes.

Yuugi sighed. He was standing at the entrance to the kitchen. He had been unable to stop his mother from retrieving the picture. He also had been unable to stop his family from gossiping to Jounouchi about Atemu and how attractive he was. Of course, until this moment, Jounouchi had not known that it was Atemu whom Yuugi had gone out with.

With forlorn eyes, Yuugi looked down at the picture frame in his hands and finally laid eyes on the infamous picture of himself and Atemu. His heart thudded heavily in his chest and a blush raced to his cheeks. In the picture, he was seated on the coffee table, leaning forward, eyes closed, lips pressed against Atemu's. Atemu was in much the same position on the sofa, only his head was slightly tilted to the side, pale band aid clearly visible on his brown cheek. Between them on Yuugi's lap, they held hands.

Contrary to what he had thought before, Yuugi found that it was a rather sweet picture, albeit very intimate. He was begrudgingly happy about it. It was then that he noticed that Atemu was smiling. The edge of his lips were quirked in delight. Yuugi's stomach flipped.

“You went out with Atemu Goutei?!” Jounouchi's cry halted everyone in their tracks.

Ripped from his blissful musings, Yuugi looked up into the astounded face of Jounouchi.

“You – y-you _kissed_ Atemu Goutei?!” His friend demanded as his mother looked on in concern.

Yuugi ducked his head, trying to make himself look as small as possible.

“Just a little bit,” he voiced, shrugging.

Jounouchi looked ready to explode, but then he noticed Ashita's curious expression and he fell silent. He gave her a large smile and said, “Well, thank you for the lovely meal, Mama Mutou! I think Yuugi and I are gonna head up and do some homework now!” Jounouchi quickly grabbed Yuugi by his arm, pulling him out of the kitchen and up the stairs before anyone could protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the next chapter; coming out in maybe a month.
> 
> *edit*
> 
>  **Side note:** I actually really love Vivian, guys. She's a kickass queen and deserves much better than Atemu.


	15. The “K” In “Kaiba” Does Not Stand For “Kiss”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuugi shares his day with his best friend and Jounouchi finally comes clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, this was ready (three) weeks ago, I was just too lazy to post it. Also, there's that thing where I'll read over a chapter a hundred times after it's finished because I don't trust that the past version of me did it right. Then I'll finally review it two more times as I'm posting (and still, I manage to miss things).
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy the chapter!

As soon as they were in the safety of Yuugi's room, Jounouchi whirled on his friend, his voice bewildered as he said, “What the hell? I thought the guy wanted to kill you, not date you!” He waited expectantly for an answer and Yuugi sighed before motioning to the desk next to his bed. When Jounouchi did not move, he pointed to the chair and Jounouchi rolled his eyes before walking over to it. He threw a leg over the seat and straddled it, arms crossed over the backrest. Yuugi seated himself on the bed, crossing his legs and perching his elbows on his knees, the picture frame still in his hands. He tried not to look at it, but he failed miserably. It was his first kiss, captured and framed. Though he was incredibly embarrassed that his mother had done such a thing, he was still giddy about the fact that he had finally been kissed, and not only once.

“Turns out, I was wrong about Atemu being angry with me,” Yuugi said with a small smile.

Jounouchi snatched the frame from his hands then and Yuugi tried to take it back at once, but was too slow. Frowning, Jounouchi pointed at the picture, tapping insistently on the glass.

“No joke!” he snorted, but he did not look amused.

Blushing brightly, Yuugi took the picture back, holding it against his chest so that he would not look at it again. He did not want to keep reminding himself of Atemu's kisses. They had been perfect in every way, excluding his little mishap where he had accidentally scraped Atemu's lip with his teeth. Sighing, Yuugi's stomach flipped and his insides fluttered with giddiness. A sharp look from Jounouchi reminded him of his current dilemma and he cleared his throat, feeling slightly ashamed. He needed to play catch-up with his friend right now. He could fantasize later.

“After school, Atemu caught me by the lockers,” Yuugi explained, “I was actually going to run away, but he looked so anxious to talk to me and I didn't want to make him mad, and _you”_ – Yuugi pointed accusingly to his friend – “weren't around, so I stayed.” Jounouchi gave him a nod.

“I'll explain that after you finish your story,” Jounouchi said cryptically.

Yuugi gave him a grateful look and continued.

“So he caught me before I could leave and started apologizing – Oh! I almost forgot to tell you!” Yuugi backtracked his story. “During lunch, after you left, Bakura and Malik kinda had a little thing. He hurt Malik and Malik ran off. I felt really bad, so I tried talking to Bakura, but he sorta snapped at me.” Yuugi's shoulders slumped. “Last time I ever try that,” he muttered before shaking his head to get back on track.

“So, after he snapped at me,” Yuugi continued, “Atemu got really scary. He grabbed Bakura and I swear, I thought he was going to punch him out right there at the table!” At Jounouchi's look of alarm, he shook his head. “But he didn't. Instead, he told Bakura to apologize to me and to leave … I've never seen anyone run away so fast before. Anyway, after that, I told Atemu that I found him scary and left.”

Jounouchi's eyes were wide and interested now.

“So, he didn't try to get you back during lunch?” Jounouchi asked curiously.

Yuugi shook his head and sighed.

“No, he didn't,” Yuugi said, “I think he didn't want to scare me any more. I guess that's why he waited until after school.” He shrugged. “He apologized for his actions and said he was trying to be a better person. I asked him why he was telling me and he said that it was because he likes me and he wanted to ask me out.”

“Uh-huh,” Jounouchi nodded thoughtfully, frowning as he pieced the puzzle together, “and then what happened?”

“Well, I accepted the date,” Yuugi ducked his head and a shy blush came to his face. “We went to Burger World and ate. Then I … kind of hurt his feelings and he ended up with a cut on his face.” At Jounouchi's inquiring look, Yuugi shook his head. “Don't ask. Anyway, I brought him here to patch him up and when I finished … we kissed.”

The red in Yuugi's cheeks deepened and he hugged the picture frame to his body, a warm curl wrapping about his heart. The memory of Atemu's kiss was bright and clear in his mind. He did not think he would ever forget it.

“Wow,” Jounouchi said, placing a hand at his chin thoughtfully, “I can't believe it. You went out with Atemu Goutei.”

“It's not a big deal, Jounouchi –” Yuugi said sheepishly before Jounouchi cut him off.

“You _kissed_ Atemu Goutei!” Jounouchi yelled, desperately trying to understand the true meaning of the words.

Yuugi nodded and helpfully said, “Twice.”

“You kissed Atemu Goutei twice,” Jounouchi nodded, adding Yuugi's words before his mouth fell open in a gape. He looked at Yuugi and screeched, _“You kissed him two times?!”_

“In my defense,” Yuugi said with a fierce blush, “it felt really good and he's really handsome –”

“Did you somehow forget the part where he _killed_ someone!?” Jounouchi shouted at him and Yuugi gasped, casting a worried glance to his closed door. He rapidly motioned for Jounouchi to lower his voice.

“Not so loud!” he hissed.

Jounouchi turned to look at the door and obligingly lowered his voice to a whisper. However, he was not done.

“Yuugi, come on,” he said, “you gotta see reason!”

Yuugi pursed his lips and looked Jounouchi in the eye with firm defiance.

“Jounouchi,” he said, “I got the real story of what happened that day from Atemu. I'm not going to defend what he did because it's still horrible, but I'm moving past it and giving him a chance. He deserves at least a chance.” Yuugi took a breath and suddenly, his eyes softened and his shoulders fell. “Anyway, he didn't force himself on me or do anything I didn't like. He was a perfect gentleman –”

“Gentlemen don't kiss on the first date,” Jounouchi countered, eyes narrowed with distrust, but it was not directed at Yuugi.

“Alright, I'm done talking about this. Just trust me, okay?” Yuugi pleaded. He shook his head when Jounouchi opened his mouth to speak. “I know what I'm doing, Jounouchi. If something starts to go bad, I'll run, okay?”

Jounouchi stared at Yuugi, but his little friend did not waver. Yuugi was adamant and Jounouchi could tell this was not a fight he could win. Sighing, he reluctantly nodded.

“Alright,” he grunted, “but you gotta promise that if things go bad, you'll come straight to me. I got your back, Yuugi.”

“I promise, Jounouchi,” Yuugi said with a smile, “now can you tell me what happened before you got here? You were really out of it.” He looked at his friend with concern and Jounouchi winced, his eyes darkening.

“Oh,” he said tonelessly, “that.”

“What happened, Jounouchi?” Yuugi asked him, his worry deepening.

Jounouchi scratched at his head and sighed. He bit his lip and gave Yuugi an unsure look. For a moment, he fidgeted as he struggled to form a coherent sentence, but then he gulped down his doubts and spoke.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that Kaiba likes me.”

Yuugi froze and he blinked. He was silent for several seconds before shaking his head, confused.

“What?” he asked, “what do you mean – are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Jounouchi mumbled, eyes roaming listlessly about the room, “I mean, why else would he try to kiss me?”

“He did _what?”_ Yuugi breathed, his eyes widening as his mouth fell open in a disbelieving gape. He stared at Jounouchi, trying to overcome his shock. “How did that happen?” Yuugi whispered when he was finally able to speak.

“I don't know,” Jounouchi said nervously, rubbing his hands over his face before crossing them back on the chair, “I really don't know. We were just – see, Kaiba cornered me right after class and...

 

_“Hey. Stupid mutt.”_

_The bell ha_ _d_ _just rung_ and class was dismissed. Jounouchi looked up from the notebooks he was packing away into his brown school bag, a scowl on his face. He tensed when his honey-brown eyes fell upon Seto Kaiba. Out of the corner of his eye, Jounouchi saw Atemu rush out of the classroom, leaving his two cronies behind. His thoughts immediately went to Yuugi and he shoved the rest of his stuff into his bag. Ignoring the tall giant, Jounouchi tucked the bag under his arm and made to follow Atemu, but was abruptly stopped by Kaiba's hulking figure.

“Get out of my way, Kaiba,” Jounouchi spat and Kaiba huffed.

“Where do you think you're going?” Kaiba said, “We have a project to complete –”

“Then call my secretary, I have somewhere to be,” Jounouchi snarked at him and made to brush past when Kaiba grabbed him by the arm, stopping his progress. Instantly, he knew his day was about to go from bad to worse. “Let go of me,” Jounouchi threatened, “unless you want to lose an arm.”

“A dog like you threatening _me?”_ Kaiba snorted and it galled Jounouchi that even when he made unattractive noises, Kaiba's attractive face never lost its attractiveness, “that's rich. Now shut up and come with me. We're going to the library.” Jounouchi began to protest. He would be damned if he was going to be stuck with Kaiba any longer than he absolutely had to be. But before he could even get a word in edgewise, Kaiba cut him off. “I'm not spending more of my valuable time, waiting on your dumb ass to get your shit together. You can see your little boyfriend later.” And without waiting for Jounouchi's consent, Kaiba pulled him out of the room, dragging him as he protested all the way to the library.

Kaiba only released him when they had finally reached their destination. Vexed and thinking of Yuugi, Jounouchi instantly made to leave, but Kaiba grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him so close, that their breaths mingled with each other's. His heart skipped a beat in sudden fear.

“Leave,” Kaiba snarled, “and I'll make sure you won't live to regret it. It's not only your grade at stake here. It's mine as well. I don't give two shits about you, but if I fail this moronic project because of _you,_ I swear to god that I'll make you pay for it with your ass.”

“With my _what?”_ Jounouchi said, bewildered.

“Find a goddamn table,” Kaiba said, ignoring Jounouchi's startled shout, “I'll get the books.” _T_ _hen he was walking away and Jounouchi was left gaping in his wake._

 

“That doesn't sound like he was trying to kiss you, Jounouchi,” Yuugi said calmly, interrupting Jounouchi's tale, “just sounds like his usual I-want-to-beat-your-face-in speech.”

Jounouchi gave his best friend a grave look. He would soon burst Yuugi's bubble and he did not even know it.

“I'm not done,” he said ominously, “let me finish. So, anyway, as I was saying...

 

_In the library,_ _Jounouchi found an unoccupied_ table at the very back. It was quiet and he was sure he would be able to get more done without the distractions that other people brought to him. The solitary table could also buy him a couple of minutes alone, as Kaiba would have to find him first. Satisfied with his petty victory, he settled down into the chair closest to the exit and pulled out his work from his backpack. Eyes trailing to the exit, he wondered if Kaiba would really try to kick his ass if he made a run for it. Jounouchi sighed. Kaiba _would_ kick his ass.

There was no doubt within him that the rich bastard would not hesitate on owning up to his threat. Opening his folder with a grimace, Jounouchi pulled his messy notes from within and the draft he had been working on. It was pathetic compared to anything he knew Kaiba would have, but it was his best. Jounouchi was trying so hard. He was determined to show Kaiba that he was not a moron like Kaiba so liked to call him.

Finding Jounouchi with ease, Kaiba came to the table with a stack of books. Annoyed, Jounouchi glared at him and Kaiba snorted derisively in return. They settled down to work with minimal threats to one another and Kaiba finally got a look at his work. The expression on his face was impossible to discern, but Jounouchi did not like it. If his work were bad, he knew Kaiba would point it out and rub it in, but Kaiba had not said anything at all. This pissed him off more than if Kaiba had insulted him.

“What?” he finally snapped and Kaiba set down his paper without a word. He looked at Jounouchi, face carefully clear of emotion, studying him.

“Nothing,” Kaiba said and the singular word grated on Jounouchi.

“If it's bad, just fucking say it already,” Jounouchi growled, “you're pissing me off.”

“It's not,” Kaiba said and Jounouchi froze, incredulous. “Of course, it's terrible compared to what I've got,” Kaiba continued and Jounouchi's mood soured even further, “but for you … I wouldn't have expected anything else.”

The comment confused Jounouchi. It did not sound like an insult, but Jounouchi had never known Kaiba to dish out anything else. He scowled then, peeved. And it was only due to his infinite, _saintly_ patience, that they did not collapse into a street brawl right there in their corner of the library.

It was not until three hours into their work, that Jounouchi noticed something amiss. At first, he did not understand what it was. He was tempted to pass it off as mental exhaustion until he realized that Kaiba was way too close, the words he was dictating brushing against the shell of Jounouchi's ear. His arm lay across the back of Jounouchi's chair, and his chest continuously pressed into the back of his shoulder at every opportunity. Jounouchi blinked and surreptitiously shifted away, only to have Kaiba shift along with him. Finally, he paused in his writing and Kaiba stopped talking. It was too quiet then, even for a library, and Jounouchi cleared his throat.

“Can you back off?” he said with annoyance, “I need breathing room.”

“Oh,” Kaiba said sarcastically, “am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jounouchi said.

“Well, suck it up. We're three-fourths done,” Kaiba spat and leaned forward to tap on the sheet. His body pressed even closer to Jounouchi's and Jounouchi felt his skin break out into goosebumps. He did not like it one bit. “Keep writing.”

Dropping the pen in his hand, Jounouchi stood abruptly. He needed space and he needed it right then or he would definitely punch Kaiba in the face. Frowning, Kaiba stared at him and tilted his head back to meet his gaze, shoulders tensing.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kaiba demanded, “We're not _done.”_

“We need more books,” Jounouchi said gruffly before leaving the area. He needed to be away from Kaiba. Being so close to him was really messing with his head space. The insane desire to pummel Kaiba's face in was coursing through his veins, heavy and hot. He could not concentrate. It felt like he had kicked a nest of wasps and now they were angrily flying about in his brain. Rapidly, he hid behind a bookshelf out of view and breathed deep to try and calm the buzzing in his head. Kaiba frustrated him so much and half the time, he did not even have to do anything but exist to aggravate him.

Sighing heavily, Jounouchi braced himself against the bookshelf and closed his eyes. He really needed this private moment to clear his head and stop whatever weirdness was happening. It did not feel like it usually did when he was with Kaiba. The last time they had gotten together to work on the project, there had been more insults, and Jounouchi had purposely wasted time by making paper balls and tossing them into the trashcan. This time, they had actually worked, _quietly_ even.

“...Yes, I can see that goofing off is _such_ a better use of my valuable time,” came Kaiba's sardonic tone and Jounouchi's eyes snapped open to see Kaiba standing before him. His arms were crossed tightly in front of his chest and his face was twisted into a disapproving scowl. Jounouchi felt electricity zap through him, raising all the hairs on his body and he clenched his fists at his sides, his train of thought forgotten.

“Dammit, can't you give me some fucking space?” Jounouchi growled, “Just give me a minute alone without you leaning all over me and getting in my face. For the love of god, just fuck off!”

Something in Kaiba's expression soured and then he really was leaning all over Jounouchi and in his face, crowding him against the shelf with his body. His thin fingers took hold of Jounouchi's chin tightly and Jounouchi stilled.

“Leaning all over you and getting in your face, huh?” Kaiba hissed at him, “Do I really make you that uncomfortable, Jounouchi? Or is it something else that's bothering you? Something _south?”_ And then Kaiba was closer than before and his blue eyes were burning with something Jounouchi did not recognize. His heart skipped several beats and Kaiba lowered his hiss to a whisper that brushed against his lips.

“Are you sure you want space?” he asked, “Are you _really_ sure?” Kaiba's eyelids fell to half-mast and their lips touched for the briefest moment. Jounouchi was frozen. “Tell me.”

The hand gripping Jounouchi's chin shifted and slid along his jaw. The other hand was suddenly at his hip, pulling his shirt up and slipping underneath, caressing his skin. Shocked, Jounouchi's heart thumped wildly, panicked, and his eyes widened to their limits. A strangled sound escaped him and he reacted. _Shoving Kaiba away from him, he turned tail and ran for the exit, nothing in mind but getting as far away_ _as possible._

 

“...And then I came here,” Jounouchi finished, “didn't know where else to go.” He looked uncomfortable and confused. Yuugi, seated on the bed, felt his heart ache for his best friend. He did not think the day would ever come when Jounouchi actually bothered to examine his own feelings. Yuugi knew he had to handle the situation carefully. Jounouchi needed him now more than ever.

“Jounouchi, how do you really feel about Kaiba?” he asked.

Jounouchi shifted uneasily in his chair. His eyes avoided Yuugi's and his leg bounced nervously.

“I don't know what you mean,” he said, “you know I hate him –”

“Jounouchi, you're my best friend and you know I would never judge you or make fun of you,” Yuugi said quietly, “whatever you tell me, I'll believe you and I'll be there for you.”

Jounouchi was silent and Yuugi did not speak. He had said his piece and it was up to Jounouchi to either trust in their friendship or hide himself away. With a sigh, Jounouchi scratched at his head and leaned his chin on his crossed arms.

“...I don't know,” Jounouchi mumbled, “I don't know what I feel.” He was quiet and still, Yuugi did not speak. “I … I hate him,” Jounouchi said, “I know I do, but … there's something else and it's confusing. It's not all hate. I think it might be respect?” Jounouchi huffed and his shoulders tensed. “There's too much anger for me to think about it. Kaiba just aggravates me. All he does is insult me and make me feel like crap. He gets on my nerves so bad and I just want to punch him in his snotty face.” Jounouchi's hands clenched and he growled with frustration.

Yuugi continued to wait, listening intently to his struggling friend. It was up to Jounouchi to pull through, but he was there to help. And the only way he could do that was to listen. Jounouchi needed to speak, to make sense of what he felt and realize whatever he needed to realize.

“I think about him, and I hate everything about him,” Jounouchi muttered, “I hate how cruel he is. I hate that he treats me like shit. I hate that he thinks he's so much better than everyone else.” Jounouchi's clenched fists released themselves and he sighed once more. “But he's not completely bad. Even though he acts like everything is easy, he works hard. During lunch, he skips eating to read up on his next classes. I've seen his notes and they're really … detailed and patterned, almost like _art._ He cares about his grades and he's proud of his image. I can respect that … I like that about him.”

“...But you hate him?” Yuugi said tentatively.

“But I hate him,” Jounouchi confirmed, “I hate his stupid face, and his stupid pretty eyes, and his perfect teeth, and his nice hair, and the way he always smells good, and I hate that he never looks like he's had a rough day in his life. He's always fucking _perfect_ and I hate it.”

“Jounouchi, do you have a crush on Kaiba?” Yuugi asked gently.

“I'm not even gay!” he shouted, raising a hand to point at Yuugi, “I mean, I don't like _you_ that way –”

“Jounouchi,” Yuugi said patiently, “being gay doesn't automatically make you like all guys.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Jounouchi said before he huffed, “but still!”

Jounouchi suddenly stood from his chair and stumbled out of it. He knocked it over and Yuugi grabbed it before it fell, watching Jounouchi as he gripped at his hair, groaning angrily.

“Ugh, fuck him so much, I hate him,” Jounouchi whined, “Yuugi … I think I like Kaiba. Oh, my god, I'm _gay?_ _”_

He turned two distressed brown eyes to his best friend and Yuugi stood up from the bed. He walked over to Jounouchi and hugged him tightly. Jounouchi immediately returned the hug and hung on to his tiny friend, tense and troubled.

“But he's such an _asshole!”_ Jounouchi bemoaned and Yuugi nodded into his chest, trying not to smile.

“He's not that bad,” Yuugi said and Jounouchi huffed.

“You're supposed to agree with me,” Jounouchi groused and Yuugi laughed.

“Yeah, Jou, he's kind of an asshole,” Yuugi chuckled, “I agree with you … even though I barely know him.”

Jounouchi pulled away and placed his hands on Yuugi's shoulders, looking at him imploringly.

“Yuugi, what do I do?” Jounouchi asked.

But Yuugi grimaced.

“You're asking me?” Yuugi said, incredulous, “I'm the one who went out on a date with Atemu Goutei of all people. I'm the worst person to ask.” He laughed nervously and Jounouchi nodded.

“You're right,” he replied and Yuugi poked him in the ribs.

“Hey!” Yuugi protested indignantly.

Laughter erupted from Jounouchi's lips and Yuugi could not help but smile in return, even if he was still a little peeved. They looked at each other and Jounouchi grabbed his little friend in a tight hug. They were quiet until Yuugi spoke up.

“He called me attractive,” he said quietly and Jounouchi released him with a curious look.

“Attractive?” he echoed, “Atemu?” When Yuugi nodded, he frowned. “And what, you don't believe him?”

Several seconds passed before Yuugi finally shook his head. Jounouchi placed a hand on Yuugi's head and ruffled his hair vigorously, earning himself an offended squawk.

“Well you should,” he said firmly, “you are attractive, Yuugi. Summer was good to you this year. You're starting to look less like a kid. Don't ever think you're not the bomb, man. You totally are.” He removed his hand, grinning at Yuugi who smiled back wryly before nodding.

“Thanks, Jounouchi,” he said, cheeks pink, “you're the greatest friend a guy could ask for.”

“Anytime, Yuugi,” Jounouchi replied with a wink, “now tell _me_ I'm attractive. I need a pick-me-up, man.”

Laughing, Yuugi nodded, giving Jounouchi two thumbs up.

“Hot stuff,” he said, but instead of following through with the silliness, Jounouchi gave him a genuine smile. Yuugi felt confused for a moment before Jounouchi hugged him again, tightly.

“You're the best, Yuugi,” Jounouchi said with sincerity and Yuugi fought the tear that desperately wanted out of his eye. He buried his face into Jounouchi's chest and nodded.

“Thanks, Jou.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, look who's finally admitted their crush. Also Yuugi and Jounouchi's friendship brings tears to my eyes. Hope y'all enjoyed.   
> Until next time!
> 
> *Coming soon: Strange Sight - Chapter 4: Happily Ever After


	16. Under Your Thumb, Goof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much to his surprise, Atemu is confronted by one of Yuugi's friends. Kaiba comes to school on a mission. And, finally, Vivian looks for her man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Salut!_ (Hello!)
> 
> (Yes, I'm learning French!)
> 
> "Under your thumb, Goof." is a line from [A Goofy Movie](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0113198/), said by Pete. It's one of my favorite movies and y'all can just fight me. Do I own this movie? Yes. Do I play it every Saturday? No, bc I have better things to do like _writing fanfiction for all a'yous._ Is it a great movie with awesome music? YES! Should you watch it? Well, if you like Disney movies, why not?
> 
> **Warning for mild violence.**
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

The next day, Atemu woke to the loud, whirring sound of a hair dryer. With a groan, he turned over on the bed, only to fall straight to the floor with a loud thump. Whining in pain, Atemu groggily turned his head to look at the bed he had fallen from. When his eyes met the tan color of the fabric covering the furniture, Atemu vaguely concluded that it was definitely not his bed. It was not even a bed, but a couch. He blinked at it tiredly, thoroughly confused. He did not recall owning a tan-colored couch. His mother would not stand for such a color or poor fabric choice in her home.

“...What?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

“Morning, princess!” called a loud, laughing voice and Atemu was abruptly reminded that he was not home at all. He recalled the shame he had brought upon his mother and their small argument after. Clenching his teeth, Atemu closed his eyes and sluggishly moved his arms to pillow his head. He was in his cousins' home.

“Wakey, wakey, Pharaoh,” said Melvin and Atemu only managed to lift a hand to flip the bird in the general direction of his voice. The sound of a camera shutter filled his ears and Atemu sighed again, letting his hand fall back into place. The floor was rather cold, but he did not feel like getting up yet. The noisy hair dryer shut off and another, slightly nasal, voice wandered down to the pair of them.

“Melvin, it's too early for your voice!” Malik yelled from the upstairs bathroom, “Shut up!”

“Look who's talking!” Melvin called back and an irritated huff told Atemu that Malik had not taken the insult well.

“My voice is a goddamn delight!” Malik shouted and Melvin scoffed as he came to stand by Atemu's head.

“Need some help getting up, princess?” asked Melvin and Atemu flipped him the bird again in answer.

“Fuck off,” Atemu muttered. He was in no way ready to get up yet. As it was, he did not want to get up at all. The argument with his mother was fresh in his mind and he was in no mood to entertain idiots. “'M staying in.”

There was a sigh and a cluck of a tongue above him. Atemu did not care. Nothing would move him from his spot on the floor. He doubted he would move if an earthquake hit. He only wished to return to sleep.

“So you're not going to school?” Melvin asked innocently. Atemu could hear something in his words, but was too tired to figure it out.

“No,” he said flatly, “fuck off.”

“Oh, well,” Melvin said and began to walk away, “Wonder what I should tell your little flower when he notices you didn't show up?”

Motionless on the floor, Atemu did not respond. Far too busy trying to regain the sweet embrace of sleep, Atemu's sleepy brain struggled to comprehend Melvin's words.

“Shame if something happened to your precious flower while you weren't around,” said Melvin and the gears in Atemu's mind suddenly whirred to life, only to come to a clicking stop. Melvin was talking about Yuugi, _threatening_ Yuugi. Stomach twisting fiercely, anger surged through Atemu and his eyes snapped open, wide awake.

Like a zombie exploding from its grave, ravenous for flesh and brains, Atemu leapt up, furious and thirsty for blood. He spotted Melvin moving towards the stairs and ran for him, stumbling on his feet. He grabbed Melvin by the jacket of his uniform and slammed him into the closest wall.

“You did not just fucking threaten Yuugi,” he hissed and Melvin made a face of disgust.

“I actually didn't, _morning breath,”_ Melvin said with a grimace, waving a hand to dispel the foul odor of Atemu's open mouth, “but it got you off the floor, didn't it?”

Snarling, Atemu shoved Melvin away from him, huffing indignantly. He took a breath, his heart easing from the panic that had consumed it.

“You're an asshole,” Atemu bit out with a scowl and Melvin cackled.

“Shut up and get dressed,” Melvin said, still laughing as he ventured up the stairs and into his room.

Calm now that he knew Yuugi was not in danger, Atemu rubbed at his eyes and yawned before making his way to the upstairs bathroom where he proceeded to kick a scandalized Malik out and lock the door.

* * *

Halfway to school, Atemu was sure he would strangle his cousins. The moment they had left the house, a very peeved Malik, seeking revenge for the injustice done to him earlier that morning, had put in earphones and proceeded to sing every pop song on his phone. Melvin had thought it a brilliant idea to sing along with him. The problem with both of those things was that Malik was tone-deaf and Melvin did not know the lyrics to a single song. Atemu was at the end of his wits and ready to kill someone. He had forgotten his own earphones at his house and could not block out the terrible yowling and screeching the brothers were emitting. Taking a deep breath, he pondered who he would strangle first. But when Malik failed to reach another high note, Atemu made his choice.

However, before Atemu could turn and cease Malik's abuse of music, he spotted a familiar head of dark violet curls. At once, his heart leapt in his chest and began to race, blood thrumming excitedly through his body. The dying cat parade trailing behind him was forgotten and all that remained was the gorgeous being making his way across the street at the corner. With a grin, Atemu hurried his pace and darted to the end of the block to catch up with the beautiful owner of those shining, plum-colored eyes.

“Yuugi!” Atemu called and Yuugi paused, turning in curiosity. Upon seeing him, Yuugi smiled and Atemu swore his heart sang. He came to a stop before Yuugi and his mouth suddenly went dry. Yuugi was looking up at him with _those_ eyes and Atemu was suddenly at a loss for words. Fortunately, Yuugi was not.

“G-good morning, Atemu,” Yuugi greeted with a shy smile, dropping his gaze, and Atemu's heart fluttered. There was a stupid smile on his face, but he did not particularly care because Yuugi was there and everything was so much the better for it. Nothing else mattered to Atemu but that smile. “How was dinner with your parents?”

For a moment, Atemu was silent before he recalled leaving Yuugi abruptly after contacting his mother.

“Oh,” Atemu said, shrugging, “it was great, little one.”

A loud snort followed his sentence and Atemu turned to glare a warning at Malik who was rolling his eyes as he put away his mobile and his earphones. He moved past Atemu and smiled at Yuugi.

“Glad to see you in one piece,” Malik said, “Ryou and I thought something awful had happened to you.”

“Why would you think something like that?” Yuugi asked in confusion and Atemu cleared his throat before shoving his cousin away. Malik stumbled into his brother with an indignant yelp and Atemu rolled his eyes.

“Ignore him,” Atemu said, annoyed until he looked back to Yuugi, and the frustration he felt with his cousins disappeared on the spot. Yuugi was looking at him again, and Atemu smiled back at him. Blushing, Yuugi grinned back before politely averting his gaze. Lifting a finger, he pointed to Atemu's cheek, curious.

“Is that the same bandaid I put on you yesterday?” Yuugi asked.

“Uh,” said Atemu as he raised a hand to rub at his cheek. He shrugged, nonplussed. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said and Yuugi sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fresh bandaid with a packaged antiseptic wipe.

“You're supposed to change it,” Yuugi lightly reprimanded, “good thing I brought this with me.” He blushed harder then and his shoulders hunched slightly in embarrassment. “I thought of you and figured I should bring one just in case you didn't have any.”

The admission brought a smile to Atemu's face and his heart thumped happily in his chest. Reaching out, he tilted Yuugi's chin up and pointed to his cheek, leaning in and presenting it to him.

“Go ahead,” he said gently. Somewhere behind him, Malik groaned loudly and Melvin yawned. Abashed, yet strangely giddy, Yuugi carefully removed Atemu's old bandaid and cleaned his healing wound with the wipe. His touch was warm, a welcome pressure against his skin. Atemu thoroughly enjoyed the attention as Yuugi applied the new bandaid, pressing it to his cheek with his soft fingertips. When he finished, Atemu smiled fondly at him and Yuugi stared at the ground, flush with pleasure.

“Want to walk together?” Yuugi asked him timidly and Atemu nodded quickly.

“Yes,” he said, “that would be great –”

“Yuugi!”

With a start, all four students turned to see a brunette rushing towards them, a bright grin on his face. Atemu felt a vague sense of familiarity at the sight of the teen, but could not place him. He wore a blue, school uniform and Atemu concluded that the boy was a student at their school. Perhaps, Atemu had seen him around. He jumped when Yuugi shouted beside him, not expecting a person as small as Yuugi to release such a loud sound.

“Honda!”

With wide eyes, Atemu watched as his Yuugi ran towards the brunette, and his stomach clenched when he jumped straight into the brunette's open arms. His blood boiled then and Atemu swore he saw red.

“Yuugi, holy crap, I _thought_ that was you!” Honda exclaimed, messing up Yuugi's hair before releasing him. He continued to smile until he saw the bruise on Yuugi's forehead. “What the hell happened to your face?” he asked, smile fading.

“Oh,” Yuugi said with a nervous laugh, hand coming up to touch his bruise, “it's nothing. Don't worry about it.” He smiled reassuringly and Honda crossed his arms challengingly, giving Yuugi a stern look.

“Sure,” he said, “you know Jounouchi will get it out of you –”

“He knows,” Yuugi interrupted, “there's nothing to worry about. That guy hasn't bothered me again.”

“Huh,” Honda said with a frown, “really?”

Yuugi nodded and Honda hummed in consideration.

“Well, okay then,” he said before grinning, “did you get taller?” Honda made a vague measuring motion with his hand and settled it onto Yuugi's head to rub his curls affectionately. “Nah, still as short as ever!”

With a huff, Yuugi brushed the hand away and said, “Oh, please, it hasn't been that long. Don't tease me! You look all better! Why didn't you tell me you were better? I'm really sorry I didn't visit, my week's been so weird like you wouldn't believe.”

With a loud laugh, Honda shrugged.

“I wanted to surprise Jou during school and you after school,” Honda said with a wry smile, “but too late for that, I think. I got better two days ago, actually, but I totally didn't feel like going to school, so I faked sick until my mom found out.” He winced then, hand coming up to rub at the back of his head as though it had pained him. “But, dude,” he said, “what's with the uniform and what are you doing on this side of town? Ain't your school like _way_ north?”

Yuugi gave Honda a cheeky grin and shrugged.

“I have a surprise too,” Yuugi said with glee, “I'm going to school with you and Jounouchi now!”

“No way!” Honda shouted before pulling Yuugi into another grand hug, only to have him ripped from his arms and a taller, lethal-looking redhead stand before him, glowering and pissed off. Although the teen was shorter than him, Honda paled considerably at the sight.

“Oh, fuck,” Honda yelped and stepped back abruptly.

“'Oh, fuck' is right,” Atemu growled at him before gripping the front of his collar. He pulled Honda to him and glared furiously. “Who the fuck are you and what gives you the right to touch Yuugi –”

“Atemu, stop!” Yuugi cried out and he was next to Atemu then, yanking on his arm in an effort to drag him back, “What are you doing? That's my friend!”

“Want me to hold him down?” Melvin nonchalantly called to Atemu and Yuugi turned back to stare at him in shock before yanking on Atemu's arm once more.

“No! What is wrong with you people?!” he shouted.

Atemu finally seemed to notice Yuugi and his grip faltered before shame filled his face. He looked at Yuugi like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to do.

“Yuugi, let go of him and _run_ _,_ don't you know who this _is?”_ Honda hissed at Yuugi who did not bother to look at him. He was too busy glaring Atemu down, his tiny being ruffled and indignant.

“You said you wouldn't hurt anyone else,” Yuugi said softly and Atemu bit the inside of his cheek in guilt. He hesitated before releasing Honda's shirt and moved away from the cowering boy obediently. He said nothing and Yuugi sighed heavily before squeezing his arm. He said, “He's my friend. I mentioned him yesterday, remember? His name is Honda.”

Turning back to said friend, Yuugi took in Honda's bewildered and frightened features before awkwardly looking to the ground.

“Honda, this is Atemu … he's my, um,” Yuugi blushed and his shoulders hunched in embarrassment, “...friend.”

“You're _friends_ with _Atemu?”_ Honda whispered disbelievingly, albeit nervously. He looked to Atemu who was staring back at him with hard eyes and a grim set of lips. He could have sworn that Atemu had been about to pummel his face in. But now Atemu was standing, aloof and _not_ hurting Yuugi who was still holding onto his arm. Honda never thought he would see the day that Atemu Goutei let someone touch him without breaking every one of their fingers for doing so. But then he remembered that it was Yuugi, his small friend with a heart of gold and he was somehow less surprised than before. He said, “I really missed a lot, didn't I?”

* * *

“So, let me get this straight,” Honda said, waving his hands around to put a pause on Yuugi's tale. Yuugi had been explaining all that he had missed, but Honda could not hear a word more. His mind was struggling to comprehend the events Yuugi had filled him in on. Yuugi changing schools, his new friendship with Atemu's group, his bully, and finally Atemu himself. Honda's brain hiccuped, needing a pause and Yuugi instantly quieted, waiting for Honda to catch up. They were on their way to the school, trailing behind Atemu and his cousins at Yuugi's insistence for privacy. Atemu had not been too keen about being dismissed so easily, but one smile from Yuugi had melted him into agreeing to his request. As it was, Atemu continually glanced back at them, eyebrows furrowed, no doubt curious about their conversation.

“Just wait a second,” Honda said, his face twisted up in confusion and disbelief. He waved a hand as they came to a stop, looking at Yuugi closely before his eyes darted to Atemu, then back again. Placing his hand to the side of his mouth, as though to whisper, he said, “You're _gay?”_ Lowering the hand, he gazed at Yuugi expectantly until Yuugi shrugged, averting his gaze to the ground.

“...I guess so,” Yuugi said, shifting uncomfortably.

“I mean,” Honda said with a stilted shrug. He frowned, eyebrows drawn together as he hesitated. He was just as uncomfortable as Yuugi. “It's not like it matters – I mean, you don't like _me_ that way, right?” He waited for Yuugi to shake his head and he shrugged again. “Yeah, see,” Honda said, “we're good. I'm still your friend … I just didn't know you were _gay.”_

“I didn't either,” Yuugi said softly, “sorry.”

“That's alright,” Honda said, and he smiled, awkwardly patting Yuugi on the shoulder. He quickly pulled his hand away, tucking it into his pocket. They spent only a few moments in silence before Honda's frown returned. “There's one thing I don't get, though,” he said, “you move to my school and from one day to the next, you've got the most terrifying dude there under your thumb?”

Huffing peevishly, Yuugi rolled his eyes.

“He's not 'under my thumb', Honda,” Yuugi said, “Atemu is trying to be a better person.”

“A better person,” Honda echoed and blinked skeptically when Yuugi nodded with conviction. “Sounds to me like Atemu's trying to get into your pants,” he said bluntly and Yuugi blushed a brilliant hue before sputtering indignantly.

“Honda, it's not like that!” he shouted and, up ahead, Atemu and his cousins turned to cast a suspicious look at them, pausing when they realized that the two friends had stopped walking.

“Then what is it like, Yuugi?” Honda asked seriously, “The dude has been terrorizing everyone for years, but one look at you and he's suddenly playing _nice?_ Don't you find that a _little_ suspicious?” He raised his eyebrows pointedly at Yuugi who pursed his lips and lowered his gaze.

Casting a quick glance to Atemu, Yuugi noticed he was waiting patiently, albeit worriedly. There was a slight crease to his brow and his arms were stiff at his sides, hands curled into tight fists. When he noticed Yuugi looking, Atemu's fingers uncurled slightly and he cocked his head to the side in question. Yuugi looked away.

“I believe that he wants to be a better person,” Yuugi said softly. He raised his eyes to Honda and squared his shoulders. “I'm not going to doubt him until he gives me a reason to.”

“People don't change overnight, Yuugi,” Honda warned, “I'm not going to let this guy use you. I don't care what he's told you or how scary he is. If he tries something, I'll get Jounouchi and we'll both kick his ass.”

“That will not be necessary,” interrupted an amused baritone, “I assure you … _Honda,_ was it?”

With a squeak of surprise from Yuugi and a shout of alarm from Honda, both teens jumped and turned to see Atemu standing next to them, arms crossed, and a sinister smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I have no intention of hurting Yuugi,” Atemu continued and his tone darkened into a threat, “I would also _really_ like to see you try.” Concerned by Atemu's words Yuugi reached out a hand and pulled at Atemu's jacket sleeve, gaining his attention. One look at Yuugi made Atemu sigh and deflate from his macho stance. His arms dropped from his chest and he grimaced. “I won't hurt him,” he said, “I _did_ promise.”

“You know, we're going to be late!” called Malik and Yuugi looked to Atemu and Honda with slight worry in his eyes. Hoping they would follow, he turned around and rushed to join Malik and his brother. Like an obedient dog, Atemu went after Yuugi, but was abruptly stopped when Honda gripped his bicep. He swiftly turned and grabbed his wrist, hesitating when he remembered that this was Yuugi's friend.

“You hurt him,” Honda said, “and we're going to have a problem.”

“You might want to let me go, _Honda,”_ Atemu said lowly.

With pursed lips, Honda met his gaze and Atemu smirked. The hand in his grip was trembling. Honda was scared of him. As well as he should be. Atemu was not one to cross and he made damn sure that anyone who attempted to regretted it with every fiber of their being. But even though Honda was obviously frightened of him, he did not let go. Atemu found that both odd and rather interesting. There were not many people who stood up to him.

“I mean it, Atemu,” Honda said, “Yuugi is the most gentle person you'll ever meet. He's got a heart as big as the sun and if you hurt him, I will hurt you right back.”

“I won't repeat myself,” Atemu responded, “now let go of me or I break your fucking wrist.” He squeezed in warning and Honda immediately let go, scowling at him with his lip curled in distaste.

“I have no idea what Yuugi could see in a guy like _you,”_ he spat, and without another word, he marched off right after Yuugi and the two brothers.

Gritting his teeth, Atemu looked down at his hand, a frown marring his handsome face. He clenched his hand into a fist, taking a deep breath before releasing his grip and letting his fingers uncurl. He watched as the blood pooled back into his hand, thinking of Honda's last biting comment.

“...Me neither,” he finally said to himself before he started walking once again.

* * *

Full of purpose and two school bags in hand, Seto Kaiba made his way into the school building. Upon reaching his locker, he switched his shoes, and his ears caught chatter from surrounding students, the latest gossip. He caught words here and there about Atemu and the new boy, they seemed to be dating now. With a scoff, he finished up and proceeded past the foyer and into the halls themselves. With a glance around, he peered at the various students roaming about, searching among them for one specific student. Still, he could hear bits and pieces about Atemu and the new kid. The day before, the talk had been about a student in the hospital and the obvious assailant: Atemu. As of late, the student body seemed to be interested in little else but whatever the teenage delinquent did. However, Kaiba was not one of them. He had more important things to attend to.

When he did not spot the one he was looking for, he continued on, searching every floor until he reached the one with his homeroom. Once there, he instantly spotted his target laughing with several other boys. The student was his usual, boisterous self. There was a lightness in his demeanor, none of the panic from the day before. Approaching silently. Seto Kaiba waited until he was right behind him before he spoke.

“I need to talk to you,” Kaiba said.

Jumping in alarm, Katsuya Jounouchi whirled around, caramel-colored eyes wide. The other boys immediately halted their conversation, looking to Kaiba. Some stared with curiosity, others with slight annoyance. Jounouchi gulped nervously as he looked up at Kaiba before abruptly averting his gaze.

“Yeah?” Jounouchi asked indifferently, though his creased brow and fidgeting fingers told another story.

“In private,” Kaiba said pointedly to the boys listening in. One patted Jounouchi on the shoulder to get his attention and Jounouchi looked over his shoulder at him.

“Sounds important,” the boy said, “we'll catch you later, Jounouchi.”

They all called goodbyes after that and left the pair alone. Instantly, Jounouchi stiffened and a nervous look entered his eyes. He huffed, filled with bravado and said, “You wanna talk? Well, too bad 'cause I don't wanna talk to you.”

“Jounouchi,” Kaiba lowered his voice, eyes avidly scanning their surroundings. With a twist of his lips, he cleared his throat and haughtily said, “It's about the project.”

“Will you not say my name?” Jounouchi hissed, eyes darting up to meet Kaiba's cold blue, and his brow scrunched with unease, “it sounds weird when you say it.” He shifted from foot to foot and looked away, seemingly unable to meet Kaiba's eyes again. Never before had meeting Kaiba's gaze head-on been so difficult for Jounouchi. One might even say he was the only person with the ability to stare Kaiba in the eye and come out unscathed. However, this time was different and Jounouchi could not bear to look at him. His gaze finally settled somewhere over Kaiba's shoulder, ignoring the confused pucker forming on Kaiba's forehead.

“...Katsuya,” Kaiba whispered.

“God,” Jounouchi clapped a hand to his forehead, looking pained, “that's even worse! Just call me by my surname if you're dropping the insults.” He finally looked Kaiba in the eyes and grit his teeth. “Fine,” he sighed, “I'll talk – but _only_ talk! Don't try anything … _funny.”_

With a nod, Kaiba motioned Jounouchi to follow him and Jounouchi did, albeit unwillingly with his shoulders hunched, face pinched, and hands stuffed into his pockets. As soon as Kaiba spotted an unused classroom, he opened the door and slipped inside the dark room. Behind him, Jounouchi hesitated, mouth suddenly dry. As if sensing that he had paused, Kaiba stopped walking and turned to give him a raised, judging eyebrow. With a precarious feeling in his gut, Jounouchi entered and passed him. Once they were both inside, Kaiba shut the door and turned around.

“This isn't about the project, is it?” Jounouchi asked, unsettled.

“No,” Kaiba admitted, “it's not.”

* * *

After seeing Yuugi off to his classroom, Atemu headed to his own, his head deep in thought. After Honda's “warning”, Atemu began to consider his words. According to Honda, he was far from an acceptable companion to Yuugi Mutou. Honda had called Yuugi gentle. Atemu, on the other hand, was anything but. He was a vicious person with little to no heart and a lot of issues. Involving such a volatile person like himself with such a sweet being like Yuugi did not seem like a good idea, and Atemu felt worried. There was a high possibility that he could end up hurting Yuugi.

At the thought of Yuugi getting hurt by his own hand, Atemu stopped walking, eyes wide. He would not be able to stand hurting Yuugi. Gritting his teeth, Atemu's heart began to race with anxiety. He would have to be extremely careful about how he handled things with Yuugi. Atemu would not be able to forgive himself if he ever hurt him. Surely, he had the ability to reign in his demons. He definitely had the will to control the more primal parts of himself. At least, Atemu hoped he did.

“Atemu, I've been looking all over for you!”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Atemu looked around and the skin all over his body prickled uncomfortably at the sight of Vivian Wong. She was smiling, wide and sweet. Her black hair was in its usual buns, her eye makeup overly done, lips shiny with sticky gloss. Atemu's stomach wrenched with the desire to get as far away from her as possible. But with the feeling came a sense of clarity. He was alone and his mother was nowhere in sight. She could not hold him back now.

“What do you want?” he spat, pooling all of the venom he had into his every word. He saw how she hesitated, her smile twitching on her face before it became even sweeter. She came to a stop right before him, too close for comfort. She was pushing the boundaries of his personal space and Atemu did not like it one bit.

“Atemu,” Vivian said, eyes on her shoes, “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday.” She laughed and it was too high and too long. She was clearly nervous. “I know you didn't mean what you said – I mean, how could you? You're just shy and –”

“Get a fucking clue, will you?” Atemu interrupted her, bewildered by her blind devotion. “I don't like you and I never will,” he said firmly, “leave me alone, don't come to my house, stop acting like you fucking know me – just _fuck off!”_

He turned to go, sure that he had gotten his message across, but she grabbed him by his forearm and Atemu only barely stopped himself from hitting her. His arm tensed, but he stilled it, hand curling into a tight fist before he forcefully unfurled his fingers.

“You don't mean that,” she said and there were tears in her eyes. Her hand slipped along his arm and Atemu clenched his jaw, disgusted. “I know you don't –”

This time, Atemu did not hold back. He shoved her away and she gasped with the shock of it, stumbling backwards until she tripped on the heels of her feet and fell onto her ass. Her face was the very picture of fear, and Atemu relished in her pain. He turned to go again, but her cry stopped him.

“What does _she_ have that I don't!?” Vivian shouted, “I'm prettier! She's no one!”

For a second, Atemu was confused.

 _“She” who?_ he wondered silently before he recalled the previous day – with the Mazaki girl, Anzu. Scoffing, Atemu took a deep breath to calm himself. He shook his head, frustrated, and turned around.

“Listen to me,” Atemu hissed and he crouched to her level, eyes hard and teeth bared, “I have no interest in Mazaki – I have no interest in girls, for that matter. I'm gay, get that through your thick fucking skull.” He watched as Vivian's eyes widened with surprise and he almost grimaced. “Do yourself a favor and stay the fuck away from me. Do not speak to me again. And if you touch me one more time, I'll break every one of your fingers.” With that, Atemu stood to his full height and walked away, hoping it would be the last he would see of her or he really would keep his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter bc I didn't. Vivian is my queen and my heart hurts for her. Please, no one defend Atemu's actions (he's a jerk). Also, never strike another person. That's no good. Don't do it.
> 
> À bientôt! (See you soon!)


	17. Façade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba and Jounouchi have a talk, but it doesn't go the way Kaiba expected. After, he searches for someone else to find an answer to his problem. Meanwhile, Vivian retreats to lick her wounds and finds herself in the company of the person she least wanted to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know I've only updating this fic instead of [The Aftermath](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3874354), but the 18th chapter is proving to be a huge pain in the behind, so I'm uploading for MIL in the meantime. Bear with me, friends.
> 
> And for those who don't care about TA, let's move on.
> 
> This chapter is honestly one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy!

Seto Kaiba was a giant. Or at the very least, he was unfairly tall. Nonetheless, when one was up against a bear, one became larger or one played dead. But Jounouchi could not make himself bigger than this bear even if he tried, and he was not one to play dead. This particular bear would maul him either way. So Katsuya Jounouchi stood, expression wary and wavering between his fight-or-flight response. The classroom was dark, the only source of light were the rays that filtered in through the blinds on the windows. Jounouchi was nervous. Efficiently cornered with Kaiba blocking his only exit, he felt trapped and panicked. Alone in an empty classroom with Seto Kaiba tended to make anyone feel that way. Looking up at a ridiculously tall and solemn Kaiba, however, eased his nerves. Kaiba did not look like he had in the library. There was no strange glint in his blue eyes, no threatening twist to his lips. He only stood with two bookbags in hand, looking for all the world as though he were not about to try something. Possibly, Kaiba really only wanted to talk … and Jounouchi was a complete fucking idiot.

_On your guard, Katsuya,_ Jounouchi thought cautiously, _you are no idiot._

“So,” Jounouchi tucked his hands into his pockets and tried his best to look relaxed and nonchalant. He refused to show Kaiba how uneasy and afraid he felt. “What did you wanna talk about?”

“Contrary to popular belief,” Kaiba said, “you are not as stupid as you look.”

Taken aback, Jounouchi's hands clenched in his pockets.

“...Are you actually insulting me right now?” he asked incredulously.

“I'm actually paying you a compliment,” Kaiba said, though there was a small, amused tilt to the edge of his lips. Far be it for Seto Kaiba to smile like a normal human being.

“Doesn't sound like it,” Jounouchi snapped. As was always the case with Seto Kaiba, no matter what he said, it rubbed Jounouchi the wrong way. _“_ _Y_ _ou're_ the one who wanted to talk, but if you're just going to insult me, you can fuck off, Kaiba.” He tried to leave then, halting when Kaiba stepped into his path. His amusement had vanished, and his blue eyes turned serious. “Move,” Jounouchi demanded.

“I didn't mean to insult you,” Kaiba said lowly and Jounouchi glared at him disbelievingly, “stay. We need to talk.”

“Then talk!” Jounouchi barked.

“Go out with me,” said Kaiba.

“What?” Jounouchi growled before the words registered in his head. His face cleared of anger and shock took over. His eyes grew wide and his mouth parted. “What the fuck?”

“Go out with me,” Kaiba repeated, “and I know you're thinking it, but I'm not playing games with you.” He stepped closer to Jounouchi then, almost invading his personal space like he had in the library. “This game we keep playing with each other has run its course,” Kaiba said decisively, “I'm done fooling around, Katsuya. Date me.”

“...What the _fuck?”_ Jounouchi breathed, “Did you hit your head somewhere or something?” Jounouchi shook his head as though clearing it before pinching himself on the arm and wincing at the pain. “I'm not dreaming,” he mumbled.

“No,” Kaiba said, a slight impatience to his tone, “I told you. I'm done with this game. I like you.”

A brilliant flush emerged from Jounouchi's neck and went up to the tips of his ears. He shook his head again, infuriated bafflement apparent on his face.

“Game?” he said, “Insulting me and treating me like crap has all been a fucking _game_ to you? You're a fucking dick!” Angrily, Jounouchi pulled his hands from his pockets and shoved Kaiba. Startled, Kaiba stepped back, bracing himself, and Jounouchi's eyes narrowed, seething. “Fuck you,” he spat, “you think calling each other names and threatening to beat each other up is _flirting?_ Are you insane? Like hell would I ever date you! Do me a favor and fuck off!”

With that, Jounouchi yanked his ratty school bag from Kaiba's hand and shoved past him. He stomped out of the room, taking great care to slam the door behind him as hard as he possibly could. Confused and shocked, Kaiba turned to the door, disbelief on his face. Several moments passed before Kaiba finally composed himself, breathing in and straightening his back. Raising his wrist, Kaiba checked his watch. He still had time for another chat.

* * *

As Atemu walked away, Vivian tentatively got to her feet and brushed the dust from her skirt. She looked around with a slight wobble in her step, grateful when she realized there was no one in the vicinity. No one had been around to see her humiliation. Hands clenched at her sides, she plastered on the most smug smirk she could muster and made her way to the bathroom with quick steps. Upon arrival, she darted inside and cast a quick glance around, crouching to peer under the doors of the stalls. Once she had made certain there was no one inside the room with her, Vivian let the smile slip off her face. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she breathed raggedly, forcing her racing heart into a calm. It was only then that she dropped her hand and headed to the sinks.

For a moment, she stood there, staring at her reflection. She noticed a few strands of her hair were out of place at her temple, and with shaky fingers, she tried to fix them, pressing down on the area with a sigh. When they would not stay in place, she turned on the faucet, wetting the tips of her fingers. But even when she ran her wet digits over the spot, the stubborn hairs continued to stick out. It was not unusual for it to happen. Vivian spent at least five minutes of her mornings trying to tame the spot with a glob of gel and lots of hairspray.

She tried again, pressing insistently in her attempt to flatten the hair, growing more and more frustrated by the second when her hair refused to be tamed. Her stomach churned fitfully and a lump began to form in her throat. Her chest felt too tight and she fought to breathe through it. Tears sprouted in her eyes and she could not take it anymore. The humiliation within her rose like a tidal wave and swept through her body, smashing through a barricade of emotions as it went. Indignation and despair soon followed and swelled within her.

“Just stay down!” she hissed, voice trembling, but the hair stuck out like a sore thumb. Though Vivian tried to stop the tears with everything she had, they overflowed and she bit her lip hard, her frame quivering. “Why can't you be _normal?”_ She struck the sink with the palm of her hand then, clenching her hand upon it. “Stop crying!” she shouted at her reflection, but her voice broke and she began to sob, covering her eyes to shield herself from the mirror. “Stupid,” she muttered, “you're so _stupid.”_

She continued to cry, unable to stop herself. It was like she was eight years old and her father had missed her birthday all over again. All Vivian had wanted was her father to be home for once. Instead his secretary, a linguist from America named Tabitha, had delivered a rocking unicorn she was far too old for with a generic note of apology. Angry and hurt, Vivian had kicked the rocking horse aside, breaking a toe in the process, and cried for hours, inconsolable. Just like then, she could not put a stop to her tears. They continued to flow from her eyes, her chest wracked with gasping sobs.

“Why” – she gasped – “Why ca-an't y-you sto-stop c-cry-yin-ing?” She hiccupped and she clutched at her bangs in anger. She yanked, desperate to stop her tears. “Sto-op cry-ying!”

“Vivian?”

With a gasp, Vivian spun around, wide eyes falling upon the new arrival. Shocked, blue eyes met her hazel ones and Vivian felt her face pale drastically and her breath die in her lungs. Panic and anger flowed through her and she narrowed her eyes at Anzu Mazaki, hiccupping as she swallowed air.

“You!” she growled.

* * *

As the poster boy for juvenile delinquency, Atemu never had to worry about people bothering him unnecessarily. Other boys tended to avoid him and only spoke to him as a display of bravery or they snuck him quick phrases in the presence of adults. The girls tended to fall all over themselves and often panicked before even attempting to talk to him.

However, with Yuugi's arrival, Atemu knew that would change and he would be seen as a more accessible person. Anzu's attempt at asking him to lunch proved that. While he did not like it, he would put up with it for Yuugi. Atemu consoled himself with the fact that even if he was on his way to becoming a good person, he still had the respect and fear of his peers. He depended on it to keep people at a distance. So when Atemu was passing an empty classroom on his way to homeroom, he never expected to be grabbed by his bicep and yanked inside.

Immediately, Atemu pulled his arm from the grasp upon it and turned, sending his fist flying. But to his great surprise, his fist was caught in midair. Raising an eyebrow, Atemu finally took a look at his attacker.

“You know,” Atemu said conversationally, smirk pulling viciously at his lips, “everyone seems to wanna fight me these days. Never thought you'd be up for it, Kaiba.”

With a grimace, Kaiba huffed and released the fist in his hand before stepping back, out of arm's reach.

“I'm not looking for a fight,” Kaiba said and raised a curious brow when Atemu frowned, disappointed by the declaration, “I need to speak with you.”

Rubbing his chin in consideration, Atemu hummed.

“The prodigal child needs my help?” Atemu teased and there was laughter in his voice, “Interesting.”

“Oh, shut up,” Kaiba snapped, “I just need you to tell me something.”

“Why should I help you?” Atemu asked disinterestedly. He looked down at his sleeve and plucked some imaginary lint from it. Kaiba refrained from rolling his eyes at the lame act.

“I let you partner with me for the lab,” Kaiba said shortly and Atemu tilted his head to the side.

“...True,” Atemu finally assented after a second of thought, “what did you need? Though I must warn you, if you want me to _handle_ someone for you, I'm out of commission. You'll have to find someone else. I suggest Melvin, but things might get bloody even if you don't want them to.”

With a shake of his head and a disgusted curl of his lips, Kaiba cast a wary glance to the closed door. When he turned back to Atemu, his face had cleared.

“You're dating the short kid, aren't you?” Kaiba asked and Atemu looked surprised at his question.

“...Something like that,” Atemu responded carefully before warily asking, “how did you know that? What do you want with Yuugi?”

“You're smarter than that,” Kaiba scoffed in annoyance, “people overheard you yesterday. It's all I've been hearing about in the halls. 'Goutei went out with the new kid.' You'd think they didn't have lives of their own.”

Atemu scowled.

“Call me Goutei one more time and you can fuck right off,” he growled, “now what do you want with Yuugi?”

“I don't want anything from your boyfriend,” Kaiba said dismissively, and he found it quite interesting when Atemu's face cleared of anger at the word “boyfriend”. He brushed the thought away and pressed on. “How did you do it?”

“Pardon?” Atemu said, confused.

“You're a delinquent,” Kaiba said unapolagetically, “I've seen that kid – goody-two-shoes type, right?” But Kaiba did not wait for Atemu's reply. “Guys like that don't go for guys like you,” Kaiba said, “tell me how you did it.”

“What exactly are you asking for?” Atemu asked. He snorted then. “Dating tips?” he guessed with amusement, “What kind of person has actually caught the great Seto Kaiba's attention?”

Pursing his lips, Kaiba glanced to the door again, the muscles in his face tightening.

“This conversation doesn't leave this room,” Kaiba bit out. He glared at Atemu for effect, but Atemu only gave him a careless shrug.

“Sure,” Atemu said, “whatever.” Coming from Atemu, it was as close to an agreement as Kaiba was going to get.

Lowering his voice, Kaiba said, “It's Katsuya Jounouchi.”

Surprised, Atemu raised his eyebrows at Kaiba and a grin spread his lips.

“The blonde idiot you _vehemently_ swore you _didn't_ have a massive crush on?” Atemu asked.

“Oh, fuck off,” Kaiba growled.

Raising his arms to halt Kaiba, Atemu shrugged and said, “Whatever. _You're_ the one who needs _my_ help. I don't have to do shit –”

“I confessed and he said I'm a dick,” Kaiba said suddenly. It was better to get it over with quickly. And as he had expected, Atemu let out a loud snort before succumbing to a fit of laughter. Kaiba scowled and said, “It's not funny!”

Atemu snorted again, sniggering as he shook his head.

“I know that's nothing new, but you _actually confessed_ and he _still_ called you a dick to your face,” Atemu cackled and Kaiba's jaw clenched tightly, “it's hilariously harsh!”

“Control yourself, will you?” Kaiba said, thoroughly annoyed, “How do I get him to like me? You managed it with the new kid – how do I get Katsuya to date me?”

“Kaiba,” Atemu said, waving a hand as he calmed his laughter, “the answer is so simple, that I wonder at your supposed genius.”

“The next time we need lab partners,” Kaiba snarled, “and you're fighting with your little, delinquent friends, you can sit next to _Vivian.”_

The threat instantly sobered Atemu and he stopped grinning. He grimaced and Kaiba was satisfied by the change, though his pride was still sore.

“Sheesh, Kaiba,” Atemu huffed, “I didn't say I wasn't going to tell you.” He sighed before shrugging. “I followed your advice,” he said and Kaiba frowned at him.

“My advice,” Kaiba said, scowling, “you mean the 'stop being a delinquent' thing?” Kaiba turned his gaze to the side, contemplative. “You mean you actually did that?” he said, “I only said it to get you to stop being such a pain in the ass.” He shook his head, scoffing. “Anyway, that doesn't apply to me. My behavior is impeccable compared to yours. I'm no delinquent.” He sneered at Atemu, shoulders pulled back as he stood, preening in arrogance. Unamused, Atemu stared at him for a moment and shrugged his shoulders.

“But you _are_ an asshole,” Atemu said, “so apologize for being an immense asshole and tell him you're willing to change.” He smiled meanly, shrugging again when Kaiba scowled at him. “What, you didn't know?” he taunted, “Jounouchi doesn't like assholes, no one does. So stop being one and tell him you've changed for the better – you have to mean it. It's not about convincing him. You do have to mean it. I actually _am_ becoming a better person.”

This time, it was Kaiba's turn to snort. He crossed his arms, dubiety apparent, and Atemu frowned.

“Right,” Kaiba said sardonically, “didn't you just send someone to the hospital a couple of days ago?” Atemu's eyes widened before they narrowed in suspicion and he tensed. But before he could question him, Kaiba spoke again. “Everyone knows it was you who did Ushio in.”

“Ah,” Atemu said and a smile sprouted on his face, far from friendly. He raised a hand and waved it dismissively. “That was _before_ I promised anything,” he said, “now, I'm a good guy.”

Still, Kaiba was skeptical. Though he had originally been the one with the idea, he had not thought for a second that Atemu would go for it, seemingly too set in his ways. Much less had Kaiba thought that it would actually _work._

“...And you're sure it'll work?” asked Kaiba.

Atemu smirked smugly then.

“I got to kiss Yuugi _twice_ yesterday,” Atemu said, “you tell _me_ if it worked.”

* * *

Angrily wiping the tears from her eyes, Vivian clenched her hands, digging her nails into her palms in an attempt to calm her cries. She took a forcefully large breath and gulped it down, finally gaining control of herself. Puffing out her chest, she spoke with bravado.

“What do _you_ want?” Vivian demanded, “Come to gloat! Get out of here!” She took a threatening step forward, expecting Anzu to step back or run off, but the girl did not even flinch. She only stood there, hands holding her backpack before her, looking somber.

“I'm not here to hurt you,” Anzu said softly, “I saw what Atemu did. I was around the corner.”

Eyes wide, Vivian bit her bottom lip harshly before turning away. Since Anzu had seen her be so humiliated, there was absolutely no chance for her reputation to remain intact. Vivian was sure Anzu would blab to the entire school. Airing her dirty laundry was exactly what her old friends would have done and she did not think Anzu was any different. She would tell and Vivian would become an outcast. Closing her eyes, Vivian braced her hands on the sink and let her tears flow freely. It did not matter if she fell apart now, she was done for anyway.

“Congratulations,” she spat, putting all the derision she could muster into her words, “you're having lunch with a homo!”

A sigh was her answer and Vivian opened her eyes. She turned her head to look at Anzu, noting the defeat in her gaze. Her shoulders had lowered, her back hunched ever so slightly. She looked sad and her lips were pursed, but Vivian could see the tremble, even through her tears.

“I know,” Anzu whispered, “everyone's talking about his date.”

_Date?_ Vivian thought, _What date?_ She was completely out of the loop. Since the day before, her friends had started ignoring her texts and calls. After the fiasco at Atemu's house, she had tried throwing a small slumber party at the last minute, but the other girls had ignored her emails as well. This morning, they had pretended not to notice her, turning their backs as soon as she had called to them, and she had felt her entire being falter. Immediately, she had gone looking for Atemu to fix it. She had heard people gossiping, but she had no idea that _that_ was what they had been talking about. Vivian had been too busy looking for Atemu to listen in like she usually would. Looking at Anzu, she opened her mouth to ask about the date, when she realized who she was talking to.

“What are you doing here anyway?” she hissed, her guard coming up once more, “If not to rub it in?”

“I have makeup remover,” Anzu said simply, holding up her backpack. “Your makeup is getting messy.”

“So?” Vivian snapped, “Fixing my makeup isn't going to help! Now that everyone knows Atemu hates me, I have no friends! They want nothing to do with me! I'm a l-loser!” Her voice broke again, and her tears came anew, but Vivian did not care anymore. She let them show like battle scars running down her cheeks.

_It can't get worse,_ she thought to herself, _I'm finished._

“I needed Atemu to like me and everything backfired!” she sobbed.

“Why do you care so much about Atemu liking you?” Anzu asked, looking genuinely confused, “He shoved you!”

“You don't understand!” Vivian cried, “If Atemu liked me, we could date!”

“Why would you want to date a guy who hurt you?” Anzu asked, scandalized. She approached then, pulling a pack of tissues from her pocket as she did so.

“Because he's the most popular guy!” Vivian said.

Anzu frowned and she opened the pack. She huffed as she pulled a tissue from it.

“Popularity?” she asked as she held out the tissue, “That's really all that matters to you?”

“No, you idiot!” Vivian snarled, losing her brain-to-mouth filter as she grew increasingly annoyed with Anzu's denseness. “All the other girls like Atemu. He's the guy everyone wants because he's a 'bad boy' or whatever! If it were someone else, then I'd have to like them too! That's what girls _do!_ It's normal!”

“...Normal?” Anzu said, bewildered, before her expression turned surprised, as though she had suddenly realized something. “Vivian,” she whispered, “do you even _like_ Atemu?”

Without answering, Vivian took the tissue from Anzu's limp hand and messily blew her nose into it. She did not look back at her. Vivian could not bear to see the look on her face. Her secret, the one she had kept close to her chest for years was seconds away from being discovered. She did not want to see Anzu's reaction to the truth. Her hands trembled and she blew her nose again. As soon as she revealed all, it would be all over the school. Everyone would know that she was a freak. Sighing, she began to form a plan. She would change schools. She would flee to where no one knew her. Perhaps, she would be able to convince her father to return to China. Running away was the only thing she could do.

“So who _do_ you like?” Anzu questioned gently, “...A girl?”

“I'm not a lesbian,” Vivian hissed, “...I d-don't” – she faltered before barreling on – “I don't like _anyone.”_ She held out her hand and Anzu absently handed her another tissue. “I'm not interested in anybody,” she said, “I'm different – a freak.” She turned her eyes to Anzu, attempting to measure her expression. But Anzu was not giving away a thing. Helpless, Vivian sighed and said, “I don't get crushes like the other girls do. They flip out and become practically _obsessed_ with the boys they like, but the only thing I've ever been obsessed with is chocolate.” She laughed, but it was humorless and sad. She rubbed at her eyes, aware that she was only making her makeup worse, but Vivian could not find it in herself to care anymore. “The other girls kept talking about how cute _this_ guy's butt is or how _that_ guy's jawline is _perfect_ … I just went along with whatever they did,” she said, voice lowered, “so they wouldn't notice I wasn't normal, that I didn't feel what they felt. I even started picking guys out before they did so they wouldn't realize … something was wrong with me.”

“So you forced yourself into having crushes – into liking Atemu,” Anzu said, her blue eyes sympathetic, and Vivian nodded miserably. She sniffed, wiping the snot from her nose.

“Perfect, huh?” she sneered, “Vivian Wong is a phony.” She gulped and sniffed again, loudly. “I just wanted to fit in,” she whispered, her voice tiny, “but go ahead and make fun of me. I'm changing schools anyway.”

“Like you made fun of me?” Anzu asked and there was an edge to her voice.

Vivian flinched, but she lifted her head to look Anzu in the eyes. Only, Anzu was not glaring at her or giving her any kind of dirty look. Instead, Anzu only looked tired. Surprised, Vivian blinked and jumped slightly when Anzu placed the entire packet of tissues in her hand.

“What you did to me,” Anzu said sternly, “was cruel, but I would never do that to another person. Even if they deserved it.” Her face settled into something softer and she placed her backpack on the counter, unbuckling the clasp. “Now hold on while I find that makeup remover. Knowing you, your makeup is waterproof and stubborn as hell.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Vivian asked suddenly. She could not comprehend why Anzu, the girl she had been mean to, was being so kind to her.

As Anzu searched through her backpack, she shrugged.

“You said you don't have any friends anymore, right?” She looked up and waited for Vivian to nod before she returned to her search. “Then, as long as you stop trying to pretend to be someone you're not, and stop pretending to like people you don't actually _like,_ I'll be your friend. Anyway,” she said as she pulled her makeup bag from the schoolbag, “no one should be left to cry by themselves … ever.”

“Even if I was a complete bitch to you?” Vivian asked with a wavering voice.

“Even then,” Anzu said as she unzipped the makeup bag, “see, there's this thing called forgiveness. I like to use it. I forgive you for being mean to me, but you should still apologize.” Pulling things from her bag, Anzu smiled slightly. “You know,” she said with a teasing smile, “you're a surprisingly ugly crier.”

In response, Vivian snorted and laughed.

“I bet you look worse,” she said.

“Probably,” Anzu giggled with a shrug of her shoulder.

Anzu began to help Vivian then, removing her makeup and holding her long bangs back as she rinsed her face in the cold water. As Vivian began to reapply her makeup, she looked to Anzu with hesitance, biting her lip.

“I'm sorry,” she said, “for being mean to you. It was really uncool of me to do that.”

“Forgiven,” Anzu replied, a smile filled with more warmth than her previous one pulling at her lips.

“About that friend thing,” Vivian continued offhandedly, “did you mean it?”

“Will you stop pretending to be someone you're not?” Anzu asked in reply and Vivian nodded. “Then yes, I mean it.” She cleared her throat then and said, “Vivian?”

“Yeah?” Vivian asked carefully?

Placing a hand on Vivian's shoulder, Anzu said, “You're not a freak, okay?” In response, Vivian looked away, but Anzu squeezed her arm, gaining her attention. “You're not,” she repeated, and Vivian looked at her.

For a long moment, Vivian stayed quiet, a fresh tear sliding down her cheek. She then nodded, closing her eyes and quickly taking a tissue to wipe it away.

“Thanks,” Vivian said, dabbing gently along the edge of her eyelids.

With a watery smile, Vivian finished reapplying her makeup and helped put away the cosmetics. Then, with Anzu's arm entwined with hers, she left the bathroom. She was smiling wide as she dragged a bemused Anzu to class, ignoring anyone who looked at them with wide eyes. There was a skip in her step and she began to chat happily at Anzu about nonsensical things like a magazine article she read that was full of crap.

Anzu, struggling to keep pace with her, could only look at Vivian, about to burst into confused laughter at any second. No doubt, their friendship was new, fragile, and untested, and Vivian knew she was coming on a little too strong, but she could not help herself. She was euphoric and she wanted to spill her heart out to Anzu. Vivian would talk to her about things she could not discuss with the other girls. Admit things that she was previously scared to admit.

However, as they were in public, Vivian settled for prattling on about simple things. Anzu would hopefully grow used to, and accept her character. Vivian thought there was a good chance of that as Anzu had yet to pull away or try to shut her up. She was sure they would eventually find a balance and things between them would not be so awkward and stilted. It had been a long time since she had felt so light and free. Vivian had never thought she would feel that way again and now that she did, she refused to let the feeling go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Remember to show your support with comments and kudos. I hope y'all have a great week!


	18. Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honda is nowhere near okay with Atemu and Yuugi's budding relationship. He enlists Jounouchi to help. Meanwhile, Melvin sneaks around and Anzu is a brewing storm that's about to smack Atemu into the new year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to a new chapter! I hope you enjoy!

“So, hold up,” Honda said as he tried to comprehend the words coming out of Jounouchi's mouth, “you're telling me that Atemu's after our friend and you've been too _busy_ with _Kaiba_ to watch over him?!” They were just outside the classroom where Honda had been waiting for his best friend to show up. He had expected a warm welcome, but Jounouchi had almost walked right past him, unaware of his presence. Had Honda not grabbed him and pulled him back, he was sure Jounouchi would have simply gone into the classroom without acknowledging him.

Of course, as soon as he had grabbed Jounouchi, his blonde friend had started swinging. But once Honda had declared himself, Jounouchi had calmed and said something about Seto Kaiba that Honda had not understood. After welcoming him back with a friendly punch to the shoulder, however, Jounouchi had wiped the troubled look from his face and started to catch up with him. While Honda suspected that Jounouchi was holding something back, he was more worried about Yuugi and Atemu's interest in his small friend.

“I'm gone for a few days and the whole place falls apart!” Honda cried, grabbing Jounouchi by the shoulders and shaking him roughly like a baby's rattle.

“It's not like I _chose_ to be in this stupid project with him!” Jounouchi snapped, pulling away from his friend's hold and adjusting his sleeves, “The damn teacher put me with him because she says maybe he'll rub off on me!”

“That sounds gross,” Honda grimaced, “but, dude, what about Yuugi?”

“What about him?” Jounouchi asked with a huff, “I talked to him yesterday. He's determined to give Atemu a chance. I made him promise he would come to me if things went bad, but I wasn't just gonna drop it. Of course I was gonna keep an eye on him! I wouldn't trust Atemu as far as I can throw him.”

“Well,” Honda hissed, “I'm going to make damned sure he doesn't hurt Yuugi. And I don't _care_ if you've got a damn project to do with _Kaiba,_ you're going to help me keep an eye on them.” He jabbed a finger into Jounouchi's shoulder to drive his words in and Jounouchi brushed off his hand. Scoffing a laugh, he shook his head.

“You won't hear me complaining,” Jounouchi said, “I don't even wanna be _near_ Kaiba.”

“Good,” Honda said with a nod. He frowned then and pointed to his forehead, “so now that we got that out of the way, what the hell happened to Yuugi's forehead?”

A scowl flittered over Jounouchi's expression and he shrugged.

“Ushio,” he said shortly and Honda grit his teeth, “Yuugi said it was a big guy with big eyebrows – who else do you know who has big eyebrows and picks on kids around here?”

“Atemu,” Honda replied without hesitation and Jounouchi laughed.

“His eyebrows aren't _that_ big and,” he glanced around before lowering his voice, “he did Ushio in the same day.”

Eyes widening, Honda stared at Jounouchi in shock.

“How do you know that?” he whispered.

“Who else has the balls to go after Ushio?” Jounouchi hissed, “and you know he's got a hard-on for Yuugi. The dude is psychotic – Yuugi gets hurt, and the next day, Ushio is in the hospital? Piece it together yourself, man.”

“He's in the hospital?” Honda asked and Jounouchi shushed him.

He looked around nervously, waving to a classmate as they passed.

“Yeah, he is,” Jounouchi said quietly, waiting for the teen to walk out of earshot, “or so I've heard.” He sighed heavily. “No one saw it,” he said, “but then, even if someone did, they wouldn't be stupid enough to blab about it.”

“See?” Honda said, “we gotta get that freak away from Yuugi –”

“Yeah,” Jounouchi snapped, “I get it. I already agreed with you. We just gotta be careful – Yuugi already likes him. Like a _lot.”_

“Well, Yuugi's always been gullible,” Honda sighed, “you remember?”

“Don't remind me of the asshole I used to be,” Jounouchi growled, “thanks.”

“Sorry,” Honda said and they lapsed into silence for a moment before Jounouchi snapped his fingers.

“Hey,” Jounouchi nudged him, “now that I think about it – you're back, but where the hell is Otogi? Didn't he get sick 'round the same time as you? He hasn't been here all week.”

Shrugging, Honda raised his arms in a sort of “search me” manner.

“I have no idea where that prick is,” Honda said with a shrug, “does it look like we're buddies or something? He's probably off doing rich boy stuff. What do you care for anyway?” He grinned, teasing. “You in love with him or something?”

“Ha!” Jounouchi said, “Yeah, right!” He laughed before suddenly falling quiet. His face grew troubled once more and Honda frowned before realizing that Jounouchi was not looking at him. Turning around, he scowled. Coming towards them was Atemu with Kaiba not far behind him.

“Speak of the devil and he will appear,” Jounouchi whispered and Honda snorted, nodding to him.

“Let's get inside,” he muttered and grabbed Jounouchi's arm before hauling him into the classroom.

* * *

“Oh, look, Honda's back,” Vivian noted to Anzu, turning in her seat to look at her as the brunette and his friend walked in, “you know, I've always liked him.”

“I thought you didn't find guys attractive?” Anzu said, confused and Vivian shrugged.

“There's a difference between genuinely liking a person and finding them attractive,” she muttered, “anyway, it's not like I want to date him or anything. Ew, no thanks.” She lowered her voice dramatically and whispered, “Penises are gross.”

“I don't want to know how you know that,” Anzu hissed back, a blush filling her cheeks.

“What?” Vivian whispered back, “you've never watched porn?”

“Oh, my god,” Anzu groaned.

* * *

“Hey, since when does Anzu talk to Vivian,” Honda asked Jounouchi as soon as they had sat down. He watched as the girls whispered to each other, Anzu's face turning redder and redder by the second. She looked completely mortified and Vivian looked positively gleeful.

“Eh?” Jounouchi turned his head to look in the direction of the girls and his eyebrows instantly rose. “I have no idea, dude. I heard they had a fight yesterday in Chemistry, or something like that. Girls are weird.”

“Definitely,” Honda said, turning around to watch Atemu walk in and head to his usual spot between Melvin and Bakura. “But sometimes,” Honda said, “I think we're the weirder sex.”

“I think everyone's fucking weird,” Jounouchi muttered as his eyes tracked Kaiba from the door to his seat several chairs behind him. When Kaiba looked at him, Jounouchi swiftly turned away, nervously wiping the sweat that was beginning to bead at his brow.

“You probably got a point there,” Honda replied, clueless to Jounouchi's dilemma, “seriously though, what is it with those three? I get that Ishtar is Atemu's cousin and Bakura's literally the only dude psycho enough to understand Atemu, but do they always have to be together? I swear, if Atemu wasn't completely soulless and evil and Ishtar wasn't related to him, I'd think they were all screwing each other.”

In response, Jounouchi snorted, effectively distracted from Kaiba. He shook his head.

“What do you think they say about us then? We've been attached at the hip since forever,” he said, “and, no way, dude.” He shook his head again, leaning forward on his desk to lean his chin on his palm. “You should have seen Atemu in Health yesterday. Dude looked so uncomfortable when the teacher was talking about sex that I doubt he's ever used his dick for anything other than pissing.” When Honda gave him a strange look, Jounouchi shrugged. “Just because I've been busy with that tall freak, doesn't mean I haven't been paying attention,” he said glumly, “I've been watching those three since Yuugi made friends with Malik Ishtar and Ryou Bakura.

“I'd watch those two also if I had classes with them,” Jounouchi continued, “but they're underclassmen.” He sighed. “Yuugi seems to really like them though. I think they're treating him well.”

“Well, they better be,” Honda muttered, “Yuugi's too trusting for his own good.”

* * *

“Tell us what happened.”

Looking up, Yuugi raised his eyebrows. He glanced from Malik, who had spoken, to Ryou as they both stood in front of his desk with equal grins. Biting his bottom lip, Yuugi shrugged stiltedly. The bell had still not rung and students were still out of their desks, chatting with their friends and visiting other classrooms. Nervously, Yuugi looked down at the three-dimensional puzzle he was putting together at his desk. He had gotten it from his grandfather. It was green in color, and so far, he was not having much luck with it. He fingered a pieced, turning it over in his palm.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said softly and Malik made a face as though he were offended by Yuugi's words.

“My ass!” Malik said, “You went on a date with Atemu – spill the beans, Yuugi.”

Blushing, Yuugi shook his head.

“There's nothing to tell,” he said, dropping a piece and quickly picking it up, “we just ate burgers together.”

“He went to your house!” Ryou protested, “You can't say nothing happened! Did you kiss?”

It was then that Yuugi found himself mute. He ducked his head in embarrassment, pretending as though he had not understood the question. He gripped the puzzle piece in his hand tightly, his heart beating far too fast in his chest.

“You _did,_ didn't you?” Ryou whispered, “Oh, my god.”

“Oh, they totally did,” Malik said with a knowing smirk, “you should have seen them earlier. Atemu was smiling so much that I thought he'd been replaced by a pod person and _Yuugi”_ – he pointed to Yuugi for dramatic effect – “was blushing like a virgin!”

Squeaking indignantly, Yuugi looked up at Malik and pursed his lips. But before he could speak, Ryou sighed.

“Malik, you're a virgin too,” Ryou said exasperatedly, “we're all virgins. And you're one to talk. Every time my brother _looks_ at you, it's like you've been replaced by a fire hydrant.”

“I told you never to bring up that asshole,” Malik hissed, pointing at Ryou with a glare, “we're done! He is _dead_ to me!”

Watching with wide eyes, Yuugi remained quiet. Although he was sorry that Malik was having a hard time, he was grateful that the attention was no longer on him and he was more than relieved that he had not been forced to talk about his kisses with Atemu. At the reminder, Yuugi felt his face grow hot and his lips began to tingle. Kissing Atemu had been exhilarating and Yuugi would undoubtedly do it again if the opportunity presented itself. Rubbing gently at his mouth, Yuugi forced his mind away from the memory. A small smile slipped onto his lips and he sighed.

“Why can't you just talk to him?” Ryou said, “you guys fight all the time, aren't you tired of it?”

“He returned it,” Malik said and bit his lip, “I don't want to talk to him ever again.”

“The necklace?” Ryou said, “You know he wasn't thinking when he did that, Malik. You guys just need to talk –”

_“No,_ Ryou,” Malik snapped, “not until he apologizes for being such an insufferable bastard!”

“Oh, my god,” Ryou sighed, “it's like talking to toddlers. He won't do anything and _you_ won't do anything. If you guys keep this up, you're going to ruin whatever friendship you had. Stop being such a drama queen and just _talk_ to him.”

“I tried!” Malik said, indignant, “It's _him_ who doesn't wanna talk – so _fine!_ We won't talk!”

“This reminds me of my mom's soap operas,” Yuugi said quietly and both teens turned to him sharply, looking almost surprised that he was still there, and Yuugi wilted with embarrassment. Malik blushed and his face fell into a bitter pout, looking away from both of them. Huffing quietly, Malik went to his desk and sat without a word. With another sigh, Ryou rubbed at his face.

“Well, Yuugi,” he said, “you're not wrong.”

* * *

“I can't believe we have to go through this,” Atemu groaned, “why can't we just skip this chapter?” The bell rang, sounding to his ears like hell's gates opening and setting him free from his traumatic prison. “This class is a nightmare.”

“You're such a killjoy,” Bakura said as he stood, stretching his body from the kinks in it, “this class is funny as hell. And we got free condoms. How cool is that?” Bakura lifted said condom, showing it to Atemu who grimaced at the sight of it. His own was still lying in the same spot his teacher had placed it in. He had refused to touch it.

“How much you wanna bet some angry parent's gonna call to complain about that?” Melvin interjected with a laugh, “She shouldn't have done it.” Melvin was studying his own, yet his eyes were unfocused as though he were not seeing the condom at all. “She's gonna get fired.”

“But,” Bakura said as he continued his conversation with Atemu, “if you don't want yours, give it to me.”

“Yeah,” Melvin snorted sardonically, “because you have someone to fuck.” He shook his head, tucking his own condom away. The class around them was emptying rather lazily. It was lunchtime and students were taking their time. “Right,” Melvin said with a scoff, “if anything, we should give ours to Atemu. He's the one who just got himself a boyfriend. He'll be needing them to fuck his little flower to _de_ flower him –”

“Melvin, shut your mouth before I break your fucking jaw,” Atemu snarled, his cheeks red, “don't talk about Yuugi that way.”

“He's got a point,” Bakura mumbled and raised his hands in surrender as Atemu turned his angry gaze onto him. “Whoa,” he said, “hear me out, dude.” Atemu's glare subsided slightly and Bakura sighed. “You guys are gonna get all intimate eventually,” he said, “be smart and use a condom. Here, take mine.” He tossed it onto Atemu's desk. Atemu abruptly stood as it skidded towards him, eyes wide as he stepped away from the desk. Bakura would have laughed if he did not think Atemu would immediately and viciously punch his lights out for it. “Take it, Atemu,” he said tiredly, “much as I hate to admit it, Melvin's right. Not like I bloody well need it anyway.”

“Cousin, just take the damn condoms,” Melvin groaned, “don't be such a baby. You don't wanna accidentally give your boyfriend herpes or something.”

With a hard stare, Atemu looked to the condoms on his desk before glancing to Melvin and Bakura who were watching him. With a huff, he took them and shoved them into his pocket, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Bakura and Melvin were still eyeing him, Atemu straightened his shoulders and nonchalantly tilted his head until his neck popped.

“Let's go eat, I'm hungry,” he grumbled suddenly, already walking away. Bakura made to follow, but he paused when he noticed Melvin was still at his desk. He frowned.

“You coming?” he asked.

“You guys go ahead,” Melvin said in a bored tone, “I gotta do something.”

Shrugging, Bakura followed after Atemu and Melvin watched him go. He waited as the rest of the students left, looking around to make sure they were all gone before he stood. Melvin approached the desk where the teacher was mumbling under her breath as she read something on her clipboard. Her hands were busy packing away her things, but her eyes were focused on the papers.

“Miss?” Melvin said and she looked up at him, blinking owlishly at the sight of him. “I have a question.”

“Mr. Ishtar,” she murmured and her brow creased with a disbelieving frown before wiping it away and nodding. She stopped her packing and sat at her desk, motioning to the chair she kept beside it. “Go ahead.”

Looking around, Melvin sat, tucking his hands into his pockets. He slouched, apparently relaxed and uncaring, but his jumping knee gave away his nerves.

“What if,” Melvin said before shrugging, “I don't wanna have sex?”

Taken by surprise, the teacher sat back in her chair, her hands coming together to clasp in her lap. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Excuse me?” she asked and he sighed.

“What if I don't want to have sex with somebody?” he asked again.

“If someone forces you –”

“No,” Melvin interrupted, “I mean, is it normal?” He shrugged. “You know, to not want it, with girls _or_ boys.”

“At all?” she asked and Melvin nodded. It was then that she relaxed, her shoulders dropping from their suspicious hunch. She cleared her throat, meeting Melvin's evasive gaze with honesty. “Yes, Mr. Ishtar,” she said, “not wanting to have sex is normal – it's called asexuality. I don't know much about it myself, but you could learn a lot about it if you do some research on the internet.” She hummed thoughtfully before nodding. “Yes, it's normal. Sexuality is a fluid thing. There's all sorts of possibilities. You could be asexual and still have sex to please your partner – nothing wrong with that either. It doesn't make you any less asexual and as long as you are one-hundred percent on board with it, it should not matter anyway.”

“Huh,” Melvin said, looking at the tiles on the ceiling, “okay. So there's nothing wrong with not liking porn or wanting to have sex with anyone?”

“Nothing wrong with it at all,” she said with a shake of her head, “is there anything else?”

“Nah,” Melvin said as he stood, “uh, thanks, Miss.” He bowed politely to her before he left. As soon as he was out of the room, Melvin leaned against the wall beside the door and glanced around. When he saw nothing but a few scattered students, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Unlocking it, he brought up his message list and tapped the one at the very top, forming a rapid text.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**it's called asexuality. look it up.**

 

Hitting the send button, he turned off the screen and tucked the phone away into his pocket. His fingers brushed against the plastic wrapper of the condom and he paused, brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, he pushed away from the wall and meandered away.

* * *

“Hey, Atemu!” Anzu called and Atemu came to a stop in the middle of the hall, looking around with mild irritation until he saw her. Next to him, Bakura stopped as well, looking around with equal parts confusion and annoyance. He nudged Atemu who looked at him with a grimace and a reluctant shrug. Sighing, Atemu rolled his eyes slightly and waited for Anzu to catch up. It was when he saw Vivian being dragged behind her that his eyes narrowed and a scowl took over his face. Regardless, Anzu went up to him and parked herself before him, Vivian looking wary at her side.

“Anzu, let's just go,” Vivian begged as she tried to pull Anzu away, “you don't have to do this. I don't even care –”

“No, I need to do this,” Anzu said, pulling her arm from Vivian's insistent grip, “you can't just let people push you around –”

“I don't have time for this,” Atemu said wearily, “say whatever you want to say and fuck off.” Beside him, Bakura rolled his eyes and nudged Atemu's shoulder. Atemu looked at him and Bakura spoke.

“I'm gonna go,” Bakura said, “this doesn't sound like my thing.” With that, Bakura walked away and Atemu stared after him with exasperation before looking to the two girls.

“Anzu,” Vivian pressed, moving slightly behind Anzu as Atemu's gaze fell on her.

“I thought you were just misunderstood,” Anzu said, ignoring Vivian as she faced Atemu, “I thought there was some good in you – that day you saved me, I felt I understood you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Atemu asked her with confusion, “When did I save you?”

“That day in Burger World,” Anzu said and her expression was devastated, “you don't even remember?”

Atemu shrugged, unconcerned.

“Didn't know it was you,” he said carelessly and Anzu almost looked like she would turn around and leave. But instead, she clenched her hands and took a breath.

“I really thought you were putting on a front for the rest of the world,” she said, “that you were really just lonely and kind deep inside.” She looked at him with imploring, blue eyes, but Atemu simply stared back at her with boredom and increasing annoyance. It grated on Anzu's heart and her indignation rose. She could not believe anyone could be so callous. “But you're not, are you? You really are just a jerk!” she snapped and Atemu grimaced at her before rolling his eyes. She could not believe Atemu. Her eyes saddened and she bit her bottom lip before plowing on. “You have no right to shove people just because you don't like them,” she said, “and you don't go around making threats either! You hurt Vivian and you need to apologize to her – but you won't, will you?” At that, Atemu snorted, raising his eyebrows at her in disbelief. She frowned. “You really are just as horrible as you act. You don't even feel guilty about shoving her, do you? What if she had hit her head? Or worse!”

“I _really_ don't care,” Atemu said tiredly, “are you done?”

“...Atemu?”

Whipping around in surprise, Anzu searched for the speaker before she finally looked down, blinking in surprise when she noticed Yuugi in all his short glory, standing behind her with his hands gripping the straps of his backpack. She stepped aside then and looked to Atemu, confused. But when Atemu laid eyes on Yuugi, his bored expression slipped off his face, turning into something like horror. Anxiously, he stared at Yuugi, breath caught in his lungs and mouth hesitating, unsure of what to do. At the sight of Atemu's distress, Anzu suddenly realized who Yuugi was. Her eyes widened and she looked between them with curiosity. Beside her, Vivian took her arm and squeezed questioningly.

“Yuugi,” Atemu said and he gulped nervously, “how long have you been standing –”

“Is she telling the truth?” Yuugi interrupted, “Did you really shove that girl? Threaten her?”

“I can explain,” Atemu said nervously, “it's not what you think –”

“Did you do it?” Yuugi asked, “What she said?”

“Yes, but you don't understand,” Atemu protested, “she was harassing me!”

“Yeah, I kinda was,” Vivian quipped and Yuugi looked at her for the first time. She closed her mouth and moved back behind Anzu, pretending as though she had not spoken.

“That's not an excuse,” Yuugi said to her before looking back to Atemu. “You promised,” he said, “and I _believed_ you.” He took a breath, looking away from Atemu and his brow creased with a frown. Atemu's stomach churned inside him and his heart squeezed in his chest, heavy with dread.

“Yuugi,” he implored, “I'm sorry –”

“I'm not the one you hurt, Atemu,” Yuugi interrupted, biting his lip, “and I don't want to talk to you right now.” Turning on his heel, Yuugi rushed off, leaving Atemu stunned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I bad or what? Who's curious about "Long-Ears"?


	19. Forgiveness and Subterfuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atemu's in the dog house and he blames the girls for his dire situation. However, in looking for a way out, he may have to do something he never thought he would do before. Meanwhile, Melvin doesn't react well to Yuugi's friends and Bakura receives a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found a temporary fix for my phone, so have a new chapter! I do hope you enjoy!

As Yuugi angrily walked away, Atemu felt his heart sink in his chest. He thought about rushing after Yuugi, apologizing again and again, but Yuugi's parting words stopped him. Yuugi had no desire to speak to him and Atemu feared that if he tried, Yuugi would despise him even more. With despair in his heart, Atemu turned to both girls and his hands clenched at his sides. Nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing, he seethed as he stared at them. It was _their_ fault Yuugi was angry at him. If not for their intrusion and accusations, Yuugi would have remained blissfully ignorant.

“You idiots!” he growled and the girls looked at him, Vivian with caution and Anzu with a defiant glare, “Do you know what you've _done!”_

“Oh, yes,” Anzu said sarcastically, placing her hands at her hips, her back straightening to her full height, almost an entire head above Atemu's brow. It irked at him that she was so much taller than he. “Yelling at us is going to make it _so_ much better.”

“Anzu, don't antagonize him,” Vivian hissed, but Anzu ignored her. She pointed at Yuugi's retreating back, lips pursed.

“If you want him to forgive you,” Anzu said, “you should start by apologizing to those you've hurt! Starting with Vivian!” She grabbed Vivian's arm then, pulling her into view and Vivian gaped at her as Atemu scowled. “She didn't deserve what you did to her,” Anzu said, “it was cruel!”

“Like hell,” Atemu snapped. He turned to go, but Anzu's voice halted him.

“You _heard_ him,” she said, “he's not the one you have to apologize to.”

“Anzu, if we end up on the news tonight, I'm going to torment you in the afterlife,” Vivian murmured under her breath and Anzu gave her a droll look.

“He can't hurt us,” Anzu said, raising her voice for Atemu to hear, “if he does, it'll only make sure that that kid never forgives him.”

Turning slightly, Atemu looked at Anzu, his furious glare melting into a thoughtful frown. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his thoughts racing. Reluctantly, he turned to face the girls fully, eyeing them in curiosity.

“Do you know,” he hesitated, “what I could do to get his forgiveness?” He looked to Anzu specifically in question.

“Oh, no,” Anzu said, shaking her head, “you're not getting any help from us until you apologize.” She crossed her arms resolutely and Atemu bristled at her words. His jaw flexed in aggravation and he huffed. However, despite his irritation, he glanced around the hall, relieved to find it was empty of people.

“Fine,” he gritted out, turning his gaze to Vivian, “sorry I pushed you even though you were being an annoying bitch.”

“Wow,” Vivian said and her wary demeanor turned to annoyance, “even I know that's not getting you _squat._ Good luck with your boyfriend.” With that, she waved haughtily in dismissal, grabbing Anzu's wrist. Ready to walk away, she turned on her heel.

Frustrated, Atemu groaned.

“Alright!” he snarled, “Wait!”

Pausing, Anzu halted Vivian and turned to Atemu. Before he could speak, she raised a hand to stop him.

“Look,” she said as Vivian glared at him from over Anzu's shoulder, “when people say 'you have to mean it', it doesn't mean 'humiliate yourself'. It means you have to recognize that you did something bad. You have to _understand_ that what you did wasn't okay. We don't want you to get on your hands and knees. We just want you to realize that you're a horrible person and you need to stop doing horrible things.”

“What's so horrible about trying to get some peace from _her?”_ Atemu asked sourly, gesturing to Vivian with his thumb.

“The way you did it,” Anzu retorted, “you could have talked to her calmly and explained that you didn't have any interest in her and you would appreciate it if she stopped bothering you. You know, instead of turning into some ape, shoving her, and threatening to break her fingers.”

“She was hysterical,” Atemu said, “calm wouldn't have worked on her –”

“I'm _right here,_ you know,” Vivian said irately, accidentally shoving Anzu as she stepped forward, “and we'll never know if it would have worked because you lost your shit and _shoved_ me.”

It was like something sour had swirled into his mouth and Atemu grimaced. Taking a deep breath, he thought of Yuugi and he sighed. Looking to Vivian, he supposed that the girls had a point. He told Yuugi he would change. He had promised to be better. That included doing undesirable things like apologizing and being a decent person. He could not just switch it on and off when it was convenient for him. Gritting his teeth, Atemu realized he had a lot of work ahead of him. With another breath, he forcibly loosened his clenched hands and his mouth. It was time to put some actual effort into his promise. Taking a deep breath, he reigned in his anger and indignity, thinking only of Yuugi until he was calm. Placing his arms at his sides, he bowed stiffly, earning two identical gasps of disbelief.

“I'm sorry I was an asshole,” he said tiredly as he straightened, “I'm not good at this whole 'being nice' thing.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Anzu said and she nudged Vivian, tilting her head in Atemu's direction. Vivian nodded and stepped forward.

“I forgive you,” she said and bowed as well, “and I'm also sorry about bothering you like that – I have some issues.”

“Some?” Anzu whispered and Vivian straightened, turning to stick her tongue out at her.

“Eat me,” she said and Anzu rolled her eyes.

“So,” Atemu said and he looked incredibly uncomfortable. It was more than obvious that he was out of his element as he shifted on his feet. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Will you help me or not?”

“Yes,” Anzu said, nodding with a soft smile, “we'll help.”

* * *

The cafeteria was a buzz and Atemu sent a longing look to the table in the corner of the room. There, Yuugi sat between Malik and Melvin. On the other side of the table, sat Ryou, Jounouchi, and Honda. Bakura was nowhere to be seen. As soon as he had entered the cafeteria, Atemu watched Yuugi, hoping Yuugi would turn to meet his imploring gaze. However, Yuugi had yet to even glance his way. Sighing, Atemu stared at the full tray in front of him and grimaced. He did not feel hungry at all. Looking back to Yuugi, he sighed again.

“Okay,” Anzu said as she sat before him with her own tray. Noticing his distraction, she followed his gaze in curiosity. “If you keep staring at him like that, he's going to think you're creepy,” Anzu said, turning back to raise an eyebrow at Atemu, “dial it down a little.” She took her napkin and wiped at her utensils before picking up a fried shrimp.

“He won't even look at me,” Atemu said and Anzu shook her head.

“I wouldn't either if you were being this creepy with me,” she said, “you should eat something. You'll regret it later if you don't.”

“I'm not hungry,” Atemu mumbled. As soon as he said that, a familiar face appeared over Anzu's shoulder and he stared, lip curling in disbelief. “You?”

Surprised, Anzu looked around and her expression brightened when she saw a girl with lavender hair standing behind her.

“Miho!” she said to the startled girl, “You should sit –”

“Miho will not sit here with him,” Miho interrupted lightly, looking particularly chipper despite her words, “nope.” When Anzu looked at Atemu in question, all he did was raise an eyebrow in answer. “Miho will go now,” Miho said with a smile, “bye, Anzu!”

“Miho, wait –” Anzu protested, but Miho was already walking away.

“Bye!” she called again and Anzu deflated, flabbergasted by Miho's reaction.

“She doesn't like me,” Atemu finally said and Anzu turned an unimpressed gaze upon him, “you said you would help. Start talking.”

“If you're going to be rude about it, handle it yourself,” she said, shrugging off Miho's peculiar act, and Atemu looked at her with annoyance. She huffed. “Being a decent person doesn't end with an apology to Vivian. It's a twenty-four seven deal.”

“How did you even start talking to her?” Atemu asked, bewildered, “Yesterday, you hated each other.”

“I never hated her,” Anzu said, “we just didn't get along. Anyway, she apologized to me and we sort of bonded in the bathroom after you shoved her.”

“That makes no sense,” Atemu said and Anzu shrugged.

“Doesn't matter,” she said, a smile to her lips, “we're friends now and she's actually pretty cool when she's not pretending to be a snob.”

“She was _pretending?”_ Atemu asked dubiously.

“Not your business,” Anzu said, “anyway, she's pretty nice.”

“I doubt it,” Atemu said.

“Being nice can go a long way,” Anzu said, “although, by the way she goes on and on, you'd think it was the first time anyone has ever been nice to her.” She sighed.

“You know, if you want me to talk about myself less, you can just say so,” Vivian said as she arrived at the table. Both teens looked up at her, Anzu with a raised eyebrow and Atemu with a scowl.

“I want you to talk about yourself less,” Anzu said truthfully.

“Well, that's rude,” said Vivian with a pout as she took a seat next to her, “as my new best friend forever, you're supposed to accept my quirks.”

“Conceit isn't a quirk,” Anzu sighed again. Vivian nudged her with an elbow.

“Is too!” she said and Anzu laughed.

“Can we get to _my_ problem?” Atemu groaned. He did not know how he had ended up here. He vaguely recalled being asked to lunch. He pushed his tray away and Vivian frowned.

“If you're not eating, can I have your jello?” she asked.

Immediately, Atemu grabbed the small container and glared at her, his back tensing.

“No,” he said, “this is for Yuugi.”

“Chill,” she said dryly, “I'm not going to take it.” She then turned to Anzu and loudly whispered, “Why did you like him again?”

Blushing, Anzu elbowed Vivian and shook her head.

“I don't,” she said, “not after this morning.”

“Good,” Atemu said, sounding bored, “now can either of you say anything useful or do I have to keep listening to this useless prattle?”

At once, both girls turned equal faces of displeasure on him and Atemu swore he would lose his mind before lunch was over.

“You really need an attitude adjustment,” Anzu said seriously and Atemu groaned as he dropped his forehead to the table.

* * *

“What the hell is he doing with Anzu and Vivian?” Honda whispered to Jounouchi, glancing to Yuugi to make sure he was not listening. His small friend across the table was absently moving his food around, his gaze sad. Beside Honda, Jounouchi looked up from his food to look around, stilling as he spotted Atemu.

“I dunno,” Jounouchi whispered back, “but he's staring at us and it's kinda creeping me out.”

“He's not staring at us,” Honda grumbled, “he's staring at _Yuugi._ Speaking of, Yuugi looks a little bummed out, don't you think?” With that, both teens looked to Yuugi who was too busy shoving his rice around to notice he was being watched. Jounouchi sighed, shaking his head.

“That prick probably did something,” Jounouchi said, “but we'll have to wait until he's not surrounded by people who like that asshole –”

“You know,” Melvin piped up and Jounouchi fell silent, “if you're going to talk shit about Atemu, it'd be nice if you were less obvious about it.” Across from Honda, Melvin dropped his chopsticks and straightened, crossing his arms. Honda and Jounouchi were still, eyes wide. Beside Melvin, Yuugi raised his head in curiosity. “I'm not deaf and I'm not kind when people plot against my family.” A worried crease formed in Yuugi's brow as he looked between his old friends and Melvin. Malik and Ryou also paused in their eating, alert. “You're gonna talk shit?” Melvin snarled, “say it to his face or shut the fuck up.”

“Melvin,” Malik said with a sigh from Yuugi's other side, “please don't start a fight –”

“Oh, no,” Melvin said, “it's these two assholes who wanna fight.” He pointed a finger at Honda and Jounouchi, eyes narrowed. “I'm not gonna sit here and listen to these bitches talk about my family like they know anything. Why the fuck are you two even sitting with us?”

“They're my friends,” Yuugi said so quietly that no one but Malik heard him. Everyone else was too busy staring at Melvin who was visibly trembling with something that scarily resembled rage.

“Stop, Melvin,” Malik said, “they're Yuugi's friends.”

“They're not _my_ friends,” Melvin retorted, slamming his palms on the table. Jounouchi and Honda flinched, tensing as they watched him. “These assholes think they can just sit at our table and talk smack about one of us?” Standing, Melvin leaned on the table, eyes glinting dangerously. Before him, Jounouchi and Honda stared with false bravado, hands clenched and trembling with wordless fear. “They wanna fight, I'll gladly give it to them –”

“Walk it off, Melvin.”

Abruptly, everyone at the table but Melvin turned to the new, low voice. It was Atemu and he was standing directly behind Melvin, looking stern and grim. With a scoff, Melvin’s hands clenched on the table and Atemu gently placed his hand on Melvin’s shoulder.

“Walk it off,” he repeated and Melvin growled before shrugging off his hand and stomping off and out of the cafeteria. Sighing, Atemu watched his cousin go before he looked to Honda and Jounouchi, curling his lip in distaste. “If either of you have something to say to me,” Atemu said to the two friends, “say it to my face. If you're too scared to face me, I'd prefer it if you at least didn't say it in front of Melvin.”

“Your cousin is a _psycho,”_ Honda spat, standing, “and you're no different.”

“Honda,” Yuugi whispered, shocked, “please stop.” Next to Yuugi, Malik narrowed his eyes on Honda. On the other side of the table, Ryou's hands clenched on his utensils.

“Don't judge my cousin,” Atemu said scathingly, “you don't know shit about him.” He smirked. “You're real brave since Yuugi's around, aren't you?”

Honda made to open his mouth and expand on all the ways he thought Atemu could go suck a poisonous dick, but Jounouchi shoved him from the table and stood up as well.

“Dude, we gotta talk,” Jounouchi said as he dragged a struggling Honda away. Atemu watched them go, his jaw working angrily until they were almost out of sight. Only then did he sigh and relax. He then turned away from them, sitting beside a wide-eyed Yuugi and holding out the jello cup he had been holding in his other hand. Lowering his voice, Atemu spoke to Yuugi.

“I just came over to say that I apologized,” he said, “to the girls.” Holding out the cup, Atemu waited as Yuugi took it. He made to stand again, but Yuugi grabbed his sleeve, stopping him.

“Thank you,” Yuugi smiled, “I saw you sitting with them. You guys are friends now, right?”

“You did?” Atemu said, surprised, “You saw –”

“I'm proud of you, Atemu,” Yuugi said and Atemu sat down again, dumbfounded. He could not recall the last time anyone had been proud of him. The fact that it was Yuugi who was saying so made it all the more astounding. So Atemu stared, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering happily as Yuugi said, “And I'm happy that you made new friends.”

Atemu cracked a smile, nodding and more than relieved that Yuugi had forgiven him.

“Yeah,” he said, “I made new friends.”

Next to Yuugi, Malik snorted and Atemu sent him a glare. Yuugi noticed, but said nothing as he cleared his throat.

“Sorry about Jounouchi and Honda,” Yuugi said quietly, “they just don't um...” He trailed off and Atemu nodded. He understood what Yuugi was failing to say.

“It's okay,” he said with a shrug, “I know they don't trust me. I don't blame them, but I also don't care. As long as you trust me, it's enough.” He reached out a hand then, caressing Yuugi's cheek and Yuugi blushed heavily. He jerked his face away from Atemu's touch, glancing around anxiously before letting his eyes drop to his lap where he held the jello cup. Surprised, Atemu lowered his hand.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked worriedly.

“We're in school, Atemu,” Yuugi mumbled, embarrassed, and Atemu realized what he was speaking of. Looking around, Atemu noted Malik watching them with keen interest. While Atemu did not care that he was being watched, he knew Yuugi did. Sighing, Atemu resolved to keep his hands to himself. Glancing over to Anzu and Vivian, he saw that they were watching him too, though they were giggling.

“I understand,” Atemu finally said, trying to look reassuring even as his heart sank in his chest. He wanted to touch Yuugi, to show his affections. That he could not, made him feel more than a little disappointed. He had thought, after the kisses they shared the day before, that their relationship had developed to the point where they could freely show how they felt. However, it seemed Atemu had been mistaken and he was back to square one. “It's fine,” he sighed.

“Atemu,” Yuugi said softly, looking troubled, “don't misunderstand.” He looked around to where Malik was watching and his face lit up with a red blush. His gaze went to Ryou then, and he paused when he saw the frown on his brow. Ryou was staring at his food, but he was not eating it. Biting his lip, Yuugi made the mental note to speak to him later. Turning back to Atemu, his voice lowered before he continued. “I like you,” he said, “but I want to take this slow.”

“It's alright, Yuugi,” Atemu said gently, “I understand.” He turned to look at Anzu and Vivian again, fighting the urge to frown. They were smiling encouragingly and he nodded to them. Looking back to Yuugi, Atemu finally realized what he had agreed to. He, for better or worse, was now involved with the two girls. They were _friends._ Paling, he closed his eyes with a small, despairing sigh. He was stuck with Anzu and Vivian.

 _What the hell am I supposed to do?_ he wondered to himself, _I have to be their friend now?_ Looking to Yuugi, Atemu's stomach flipped and he inwardly groaned. _Yuugi,_ he thought, _what have you done to me?_

* * *

“Dude,” Jounouchi hissed, “you need to learn to fucking chill.”

They were outside the cafeteria, in the shade of the walkway that surrounded the courtyard. There were students scattered scarcely throughout, the majority inside the cafeteria. In the middle, several were playing with a small sack, kicking it into the air and to each other in turns. All the other students were far enough away to pay no mind to Jounouchi or Honda. Jounouchi was blocking the door into the cafeteria, preventing his friend from pushing past him. In one such instance, Honda tried shoving him aside and Jounouchi grabbed him by the neck of his shirt.

“Honda, will you _listen?”_ Jounouchi snapped, yanking his friend away from the door. Honda pulled away with annoyance, fixing his shirt as he went.

“What?” Honda groused, “I was just telling him what I think – he can't do shit, you know? He's a dog with a muzzle for as long as he's trying to impress Yuugi.”

“And when Yuugi's not there?” Jounouchi hissed, “What the hell are you going to do when he catches you alone?” At that, Honda quieted, chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought about it. “Now is not the time to piss him off!” Jounouchi whispered, “He's going to send you to the hospital like he did Ushio!” He waited for the words to hit home, and when they did, Honda's lips thinned and he scowled.

“Fine,” Honda muttered. He retreated from the cafeteria door, shoulders hunching. Beside him, Jounouchi was finally allowed to relax. “It's just,” Honda huffed in frustration, “I can't stand that Yuugi is dating that guy.”

“Yeah,” Jounouchi said noncommittally.

“He's an asshole,” Honda seethed, “he should be in prison or a correctional facility – somewhere far away from Yuugi.” He kicked at the ground, grimacing and moodily shoving his hands into his pockets. “How are we supposed to keep him safe if he's around those delinquents?”

In answer, Jounouchi shrugged and Honda huffed again.

“Yuugi's so damn gullible,” Honda snapped, “it's pissing me off.”

“Chill, will you?” Jounouchi said, “if it weren't for Yuugi's big heart, he would never have been my friend –”

“Don't you even start comparing yourself to those fuck-ups,” Honda snarled, “you were nothing like them!”

“Maybe not,” Jounouchi said complacently, “but I wasn't exactly all that great to Yuugi.” He shrugged. “And neither were you. You were a dick to him –”

“Don't remind me,” Honda said bitterly, “I was jealous that you had a new best friend. And I was never as bad as those guys. All I did was show him tough love –”

“But still,” Jounouchi interrupted, “the point is that you can't be mad at Yuugi for choosing the wrong people to trust. And you can't keep trying to pick fights with Atemu. He's _going_ to kill you.”

“I'd like to see him try,” Honda said, all bravado, “I'll punch him right in his stupid handsome face.” Amused, Jounouchi raised his eyebrows at him before snorting.

“Sure, buddy,” he said condescendingly and Honda punched him hard in the arm for his quip. “Um, _ow,”_ Jounouchi said, pointedly rubbing his arm, “I'm gonna let that slide since it's better for you to hit me than Atemu. Now let's get back to Yuugi. Gotta keep an eye on him, right?”

“Right,” Honda agreed and Jounouchi stopped him before he could move.

“You gonna stop trying to pick a fight with Atemu?” he asked warily.

“Yeah, yeah,” Honda said with annoyance, brushing him away, “now let's go.”

They entered the cafeteria then and once the door closed, Melvin stepped out from behind the pillar he had been using as a backrest to cool off from his argument. With narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He stared at it for a long moment before he unlocked it and noticed two texts waiting for him. The first had been sent a while back and the second only a few minutes before.

 

**From _Long-Ears_ :**

**Thanks, I'll check it out.**

-

**From _Long-Ears_ :**

**Don't listen to them. They're wrong.**

 

After a long moment, he switched conversations and formed a text.

 

**To _Pharaoh_ :**

**watch yourself. goons wanna break up your marriage.**

* * *

At the sound of the bell, Bakura pushed through the throng of students, searching for the white head of his younger brother. Behind him, he could hear Atemu and Melvin talking. He did not know what the hell they had been whispering about ever since lunch and he did not particularly care. Whatever plans they had formed, he would undoubtedly be included in them when they were ready. Bakura could always count on Atemu and Melvin to keep him in the loop when it mattered.

“Touzoku!”

At the sound of his little brother's voice, Bakura turned and spotted him standing out of the way of the moving herd of students. He spotted Atemu's precious flower right next to him, but Malik he did not see. Confused, he made his way over to his brother, shoving aside one or two students stupid enough to be in his way.

“Ready to go home?” Bakura asked him gruffly and Ryou shook his head.

“Actually,” Ryou said with a hopeful smile, “we thought it would be fun to go for milkshakes.”

“'We'?” Bakura grunted and Ryou motioned to Yuugi and himself. Rolling his eyes, Bakura shrugged. “Do whatever you want,” he said, “just keep your phone on you and call me when you're done –”

“I want you to come with us,” Ryou said, “we want everyone to come.”

“Come where?” Atemu voiced as he arrived at Bakura's side. He grinned at Yuugi and Yuugi smiled shyly, waving at him. With a grimace, Bakura scoffed at their silly display. He felt as though he would be sick from the sweetness.

“Ryou and I thought it'd be fun if we all went for milkshakes,” Yuugi said to Atemu, blushing when Atemu's smile widened.

“That's a brilliant idea, little one,” Atemu said, “let's do that!”

“You've got to be fucking kidding,” Bakura muttered under his breath, staring at Atemu with disbelief. “I'm not going,” he gritted out quietly and Atemu glared hard at him, wine-colored eyes lethal. Wincing, Bakura sighed and rolled his eyes extra hard before nodding. “Yeah, let's go get milkshakes,” he said more loudly, “why not.”

“We can even invite your new friends!” Yuugi said excitedly to Atemu, and Bakura especially enjoyed watching Atemu's blissful smile falter. Confusion showed on Atemu's face as Yuugi continued. “Vivian and Anzu,” Yuugi said cheerfully, “I'd really like to get to know them –”

“Yuugi,” Atemu interrupted with a nervous laugh, panic in his eyes as he shook his head adamantly, “wait just a second –”

“Oh, there they are!” Yuugi cried out, completely ignoring Atemu as he waved his arm gleefully, “Vivian! Anzu! Over here!” He ran off into the crowd and Atemu cursed loudly, horror-stricken. Beside him, Bakura cackled, overjoyed as he watched Yuugi approach the two girls. He could hear Yuugi's light voice over the noise of the crowd. “Hi! I didn't get to meet you before – I'm Yuugi! Atemu and I wanted to invite you to join us – we're going for milkshakes!”

“Yuugi, you sweet cinnamon roll, _no,”_ Atemu groaned, covering his eyes as Vivian and Anzu nodded their heads with wide smiles on their faces.

“Touzoku,” Ryou said worriedly, watching his brother wheeze for breath. “Why are you laughing so hard?” he asked, “What's so funny?”

Wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes, Bakura shook his head, his entire body shaking as he gasped for breath.

“Yo,” Melvin said as he pulled up next to him, Malik at his side, “what'd we miss? What's wrong with Florence?”

The question instantly sobered Bakura and he scowled at Melvin, jaw clenched. Next to him, Ryou greeted Melvin and Malik with a warm smile.

“Fuck you, Melvin,” Bakura growled petulantly, watching out of the corner of his eye as Malik shimmied up to Ryou and started whispering into his ear. “We're going for milkshakes,” he explained to Melvin, “Pharaoh's flower invited the girls.” He chuckled then, earning a withering glower from Atemu. “Apparently, they're Atemu's new best friends.”

“Shut up, Bakura,” Atemu grumbled.

“Already replaced us then?” Melvin laughed and Atemu kicked him in the shin. Melvin continued to laugh, even as he hopped on one foot and rubbed at the spot.

“Atemu,” Anzu said as she came to a stop next to the group with Vivian and Yuugi at her sides. Yuugi was looking at him with something that strangely looked like pride and Atemu sighed. If Yuugi continued looking at him that way, Atemu would wholeheartedly sign over his soul and do Yuugi's bidding until the end of time. Meeting Anzu's gaze with reluctance, Atemu tried to appear pleasant. She smiled at him and said, “Thank you for inviting us! It was very considerate of you.”

“Ditto,” Vivian added with a knowing grin. Moving around Anzu, she wrapped an arm around Yuugi's neck, smiling as Atemu silently fumed. “You know, I totally get why you chose him – he's just so cute!”

“Ah,” Yuugi blushed, looking to the ground meekly, “th-thank you, Viv-vian.” And when Vivian rubbed their cheeks together, Yuugi's blush spread all the way to his ears.

“Alright, that's enough,” Atemu said firmly, grabbing Yuugi's arm and pulling him out of her grip. “You're embarrassing him.” Vivian only continued to grin, satisfied.

“You know, if you ever get tired of grumpy-pants,” she whispered to Yuugi, “I'll treat you nice.” She winked and Yuugi's entire face flamed brightly. He stared at the ground, too embarrassed to answer her. Vivian laughed at his reaction, clapping her hands joyfully. “Oh, he's adorable!”

“C'mon, Vivian,” Anzu scolded with an unwilling smile, “stop teasing him.” She moved over to Yuugi, touching his shoulder lightly to get his attention. When Yuugi looked up at her, face suffused in red, she smiled kindly. “She's just teasing,” Anzu said gently, “but she's right about you. You're adorable. Thank you for inviting us along.”

“You're welcome,” Yuugi mumbled, smiling timidly at her from beneath his blonde bangs, “and you're really pretty.” Beside him, Atemu glowered at the ground, arms crossed tightly over his chest as Anzu covered her giggling mouth.

“Yuugi!”

Looking up, Yuugi saw Jounouchi and Honda headed his way. He waved, relieved for the distraction, and left Atemu's side to meet them.

“Hey, guys!” Yuugi greeted them brightly, his face returning to its normal shade.

“Hey, Yuugi,” Jounouchi said bumping fists with him, “let's go play video games at your house! Been a while since we hung out!”

“Oh,” Yuugi's smile faltered and he shook his head, “I already made plans. We're all going for milkshakes. You're coming, right?” He looked at his friends anxiously, hoping they would not become upset.

“Course we are!” Honda said immediately as he looked beyond Yuugi to the waiting group. His eyes narrowed minutely on Atemu and he forced a grin. “Wouldn't miss it for the world!”

* * *

After contacting their respective parents, the group changed their shoes and met up at the school entrance. Atemu made sure to stay close to Yuugi, keeping himself as a grumpy shield from the two girls who smiled at him. They all chatted amicably enough and Yuugi found out that Jounouchi and Honda were already acquainted with Anzu, and slightly feared her, much to his amusement. When they departed, Melvin walked with his head in the clouds, following behind Malik who walked between Ryou and Yuugi. At his side, Bakura eyed their odd group, bewildered and entertained with the turn of events. As their entire group headed out of the school, however, Bakura turned his gaze to the gate and felt his stomach flip. In an instant, he grabbed Ryou's arm and brought him to an abrupt halt.

When Melvin and Atemu noticed their pause, they stopped with the Bakura brothers and the rest group faltered in confusion. Suddenly all eyes were on Ryou and Bakura, but Bakura did not even notice. His attention was fixed on the brown-skinned man waiting just beyond the gate. He was just as tall as Melvin and his white hair was a shaggy mess on his head. There was a large jagged scar under his right eye, his eyes a stormy grey. He stood, dressed in loose cargo pants, sturdy worn boots, and a white, long-sleeved shirt. He raised his hand in a wave, a ferocious grin on his face.

“Yo,” he called in a rough voice and to everyone's shock, Ryou screamed in delight.

“Nusutto!” Ryou shouted, ripping from his brother's hold and racing to the man. With open arms, the man embraced Ryou and spun him around, a wild, hearty laugh leaving his lungs.

“What the fuck?” Melvin said abruptly, “The fuck is that?” He turned to Bakura, brow furrowed into a frown, but Bakura did not look at him when he answered, still in apparent shock.

“That's Nusutto,” Bakura said, eyes wide, “my big brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, y'all read that right. Nusutto (Thief King Bakura) is here and I am ecstatic! Who's still wondering about Long-Ears? Yeah, I didn't really give any hints, but I'm curious to know if anyone's solved that yet. 
> 
> *Nusutto: thief
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed and remember to support your favorite authors (hopefully, I'm in there somewhere) with kudos and comments!


	20. Nusutto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the third brother arriving to the party, Touzoku Bakura deems it time to get the fuck out of dodge. Unfortunately for him, things don't quite go his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oki doki, here's a new chapter! Btw, I have news! (More info in ending notes.)

“You have _another_ brother?” Melvin said incredulously. Their group had come to an uncertain stop, their attention on the man Ryou was currently hugging tightly. Melvin, however, had his eyes narrowed on Bakura. His jaw was clenched, hands in fists by his sides. Bakura, though, was completely unaware of Melvin's angry disbelief, his attention on the white-haired man ruffling his little brother's hair. He vaguely registered Melvin's question and answered it like an afterthought.

“Half-brother,” Bakura replied absently, “different moms.” But this was less than a satisfactory answer for one Melvin Ishtar. His brow furrowed and he glanced at the man Bakura was looking to before returning his gaze to his friend.

“The fuck were you planning to tell me?” Melvin snapped. Yet, Bakura did not seem to be listening, so he turned to Atemu who stood impassively and unconcerned beside them. His cousin's eyes had trailed over to Yuugi who was speaking quietly with Malik. Melvin glanced over as Anzu and Jounouchi joined their conversation, but Honda stood by, determinedly uninterested in joining the gossip. His forced apathy made Melvin want to punch him. Viciously ignoring Honda and anything to do with him, he nudged Atemu to get his attention. “Did you know about this shit?” Melvin asked him and Atemu nodded.

“Yeah,” he said shortly before turning his head to Bakura, “you didn't mention he was coming back.” Melvin stared at them both, his eyes widening slightly.

“I didn't know,” Bakura said dumbly. From ahead, Nusutto called to him.

“Touzoku, get your lily-white ass over here and hug me like a good little brother!”

“You told Atemu, but didn't tell me?” Melvin said incredulously and Bakura blinked, seemingly returning to himself before shrugging at him.

“Atemu understands –”

“We don't talk about that,” Atemu interrupted severely, _“_ _ever.”_ And Bakura snapped his mouth shut. He looked to Atemu warily before patting Melvin's back, but Melvin smacked his arm away, grossly displeased. Bakura did not attempt to touch him again.

“It just never came up,” Bakura said in explanation and he made his way over to the man who had an ecstatic Ryou clinging to his waist. He slowed down just before he reached them and Nusutto motioned him to come closer. When he did, Nusutto grabbed him in a vicious headlock and dug his knuckles into his hair. “Goddammit, Nusutto! This is why we can't be friends!” Bakura growled, overly aware of their audience as he failed to shove away.

“I'm your big brother, not your friend,” Nusutto cackled madly before pulling Bakura into a fierce hug. Bakura did not return it, shifting uncomfortably and Nusutto sighed in satisfaction. He pulled away and grinned. “Missed me?”

“No,” Bakura bit out, casting a wary glance to where his friends stood watching with interest. He could tell they wanted to come over and promptly looked away.

“You rude little shit,” Nusutto said fondly and looked behind him where the group stood in confusion. “They your friends? Ryou only ever mentioned two in his letters.”

“They're not my friends,” Bakura muttered, but Nusutto was not listening to him. He was waving at the group who all hesitantly waved back, including Melvin and Atemu. Bakura sighed heavily, mouth twisting in dissatisfaction. He crossed his arms moodily as Ryou finally separated himself from Nusutto. He looked up at him, all of his teeth showing as he grinned.

“You need to meet my friends!” Ryou said excitedly and Bakura uncrossed his arms in alarm as Ryou turned to the group waiting nearby. He instantly grabbed Ryou's arm before he could take off running.

“Ryou, no,” Bakura hissed and both Nusutto and Ryou looked at him with equal parts confusion and shock.

“No?” Nusutto said curiously and Bakura shrugged stiltedly at him, but did not meet his gaze.

“He can meet them another day,” Bakura said to Ryou, “let's just go home and catch up.”

“But we're going for milkshakes,” Ryou protested, motioning to the group with bewilderment.

“Milkshakes?” Nusutto said, dark eyes lighting up with interest, “Well I suppose I could join you munchkins –”

“We'll do it next time,” Bakura interrupted and Nusutto looked at him with a frown, “let's just get home. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Now, hold on,” Nusutto said and Bakura grabbed the wrist of his brother's shirt, tugging insistently.

“Next time, Nusutto,” Bakura insisted and Nusutto waved him off.

“Alright, cool it,” he said before motioning to the waiting group, “just say goodbye to your friends.”

“Bye,” Bakura called out quickly, waving to his only two friends.

“See you tomorrow, Bakura,” Atemu responded and Melvin waved with a grimace.

“See ya, kids,” Nusutto said, waving as he turned around. He grabbed Ryou around his shoulders, tugging him to his side.

But Ryou wriggled out of his brother's hold and ran over to his friends. He hugged both Yuugi and Malik, giving them brief apologies and promising a better explanation later. He then wished them all a fun afternoon before darting after his two older brothers.

“Am I really the only one who didn't know Bakura had another brother?” Melvin voiced, disgruntled, and Yuugi raised a hand.

“I didn't know either,” he said and Melvin scoffed.

“That doesn't make me feel any better,” he muttered.

* * *

“So we're still doing this?” Atemu said petulantly. They were walking, on their way to the diner-themed restaurant just a few streets away. Beside him, Melvin snorted and patted his shoulder, earning a stern glare from Atemu. Melvin laughed outright. He pointed ahead of them, where Yuugi was walking next to Malik, chatting happily with Honda and Jounouchi on his other side.

“Do it for him,” Melvin said in a mockingly simpering tone, “it'll make your little flower _so_ happy.” Atemu looked to Yuugi, his gaze softening, but reluctant.

“I guess,” he mumbled moodily, “even though I still want to sock those idiots in the face.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Yuugi glanced back, a shy smile to his lips. Atemu's heart fluttered and he grinned back, annoyance forgotten. Then Yuugi faced forward, resuming his chatter with Malik.

“Dude, you're so pathetic,” Melvin remarked, grinning when Atemu turned and scowled, seething.

“I'm going to gut you,” he threatened and Melvin guffawed loudly.

“Ooh, what's so funny?” Vivian asked, moving up behind them and Melvin cackled even harder as Atemu sighed.

“Are you guys telling jokes?” Anzu asked curiously and Melvin wheezed in his laughter.

Atemu elbowed him.

“No,” he replied stiffly.

* * *

“Alright,” Nusutto said as he yanked off his boots at the entrance to their home, “what was _that_ about?” But when he looked up, Bakura was walking away and out of the living room. He made to follow and frowned when he heard a door slam. Turning to Ryou, he jerked his head in the direction Bakura had gone. “What's his deal?”

“I don't know,” Ryou shrugged, sighing as he removed his own shoes, “I think it has to do with Malik.”

“The blonde, right?” Nusutto questioned and Ryou nodded, “I thought they were, as you once put it, 'more than friends'?”

“Well, not exactly?” Ryou said uneasily. He frowned thoughtfully before continuing. “I mean, they are,” he said, _“friends,_ that is, but recently they had a row and they're not talking anymore.”

“Ah, a lover's quarrel,” said Nusutto with a knowing nod, “and here I thought he was unhappy because I came back.”

“Why _did_ you come back?” Ryou asked curiously before quickly shaking his head, “I mean, it's great – I love that you're back, but I thought you said you were going to stay with dad longer.”

Placing a hand on Ryou's head, Nusutto smiled warmly. He ruffled Ryou's white locks and sighed.

“I had a change of heart and started missing my two little brothers,” he said, shrugging, “and I've been thinking long and hard.” Motioning to the couch, he walked over with Ryou, sitting comfortably. He turned to Ryou, resting his upper arm along the back of the seat. Ryou, however, remained with his hands tucked between his legs, facing forward and visibly nervous. “I've been thinking that you two have been alone for far too long,” Nusutto said slowly, and Ryou looked up in surprise, meeting his gaze, “and I'm more than done being okay with that.”

Straightening where he sat, Ryou stared at Nusutto disbelievingly. He opened his mouth to speak and shut it soon after, brow furrowing as he processed Nusutto's words. Nusutto gazed at him apprehensively, watching his reaction. When Ryou frowned questioningly, he nodded.

“So,” Ryou said, “does that mean...” He let the sentence hang in the air and Nusutto nodded again.

“Yeah, Ryou,” he said with a hint of a warm smile, “I'm staying.”

“Do you mean it?” Ryou said quietly, his eyes guarded and Nusutto nodded.

“Yes, Ryou –”

“Promise?” Ryou said, eyes unwavering as he searched for even a hint of a lie.

“I promise,” Nusutto said sincerely. At once, Ryou shouted in delight and launched himself onto Nusutto, hugging him tightly. “I'm done treasure-hunting,” Nusutto said as he patted Ryou's trembling back, “dad can seek whatever gold he likes … my family needs me.”

“Thank you, Nusutto,” Ryou whispered softly, tears in his voice, “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too, little brother,” Nusutto said quietly.

* * *

Lying on his bed with one arm thrown up around the back of his head, Bakura held his phone in hand, thumbing his way through a maze of walkways and collecting coins as he went. He had nothing better to do and he could not leave his room. Nusutto's presence in the house had, to all sense and purposes, imprisoned him in his room. There was not a single fledgling of desire within him that wanted to talk to Nusutto. And if he was lucky, he would not have to. Bakura knew his brother well, and Nusutto was not one to stand still for long. Nusutto would soon leave to whatever hell he had clawed himself out of and things would return to normal.

At least … as normal as things could be without Malik's constant harassment.

Bakura was grateful for the peace and quiet Malik's removal had granted him. There were no more midnight texts to discuss the afterlife or what color a fairy's blood was. Nothing nonsensical to disturb his nights. He had planned, in no uncertain terms, to finally get that shuteye Malik had denied him on countless occasions. However, the very night he had ceased all contact with Malik, Bakura found himself lying wide awake, listening to the annoying crickets that had suddenly taken residence outside his window. He was positive that they had not been there before. Beyond exasperated, Bakura had half a mind to call for an exterminator, just to get some sleep. He could not have gotten rid of Malik just to fail in his endeavor to get some decent sleep. But, regardless of insufferable insects that had quickly invaded the outside perimeter, Bakura was content without the clingy, nosy, nasal blonde named Malik. His life was all the better for it, quiet and alone like he liked to be, even as a grudging insomniac.

Abruptly, it was game over on the screen and Bakura growled in annoyance before tossing the phone aside, listening with relish as it skidded off the bed and to the floor with a clatter. A knock on his door grabbed his attention and Bakura scowled, turning over onto his stomach and staring at the wall where a poster of _Death Note_ , a birthday gift from Melvin, was tacked on. He did not answer.

“Touzoku,” Nusutto gruffly called beyond the door and Bakura clenched his jaw, remaining silent. “You there, little brother?”

Still, Bakura did not answer and he heard Nusutto sigh.

“What,” said Nusutto, “not gonna talk to me?” He scoffed. “How long can you keep it up?”

Closing his eyes, Bakura began to count sheep, determined to fall asleep when the crickets could not keep him awake.

“You know,” Nusutto said, “you'll have to talk to me eventually.”

Bakura scowled, eyes opening to glare at the wall. He very much doubted it.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Nusutto said, “I can wait forever.”

 _What?_ Bakura thought, disbelieving.

“Oh, by the way,” Nusutto said, “I'm staying for good.” Then he walked away and Bakura listened to his footsteps grow faint with a bitter twist to his lips.

“Liar,” Bakura muttered.

* * *

“Are you cooking?” Ryou asked incredulously as he walked into the kitchen two hours later, rubbing at his damp hair with the towel wrapped around his shoulders. He nudged the sleeves of his green pajama shirt up his forearms and made his way over to peer at what his brother was doing. Nusutto looked up from the cutting board where he was chopping vegetables at the counter. He nodded and shrugged.

“Yep,” he said.

“Oh,” Ryou said, glancing at the table where several bags of produce sat. “You went to the store while I was in the shower?”

“You take pretty long showers, so yeah,” Nusutto replied as he dumped the onion into the wok on the stove. “All you had was takeout in there. Haven't you two been eating well?” He turned a critical frown in Ryou's direction, his eyes narrowing. “You're looking skinny – and Touzoku looks worse.”

“No, we do!” Ryou asserted, “We do eat well. We were going to go to the store tomorrow, though. Need help?”

“Nah,” Nusutto said, setting the board aside, “I got this.” He moved to a second cutting board where he had cut up some chicken. He tossed the strips into the wok next and reached for the salt, tossing some in.

“That's too much salt,” Ryou remarked and Nusutto scoffed, tossing some more in.

“No, it's not,” he denied as Ryou looked into the wok with a wince.

“Nusutto, that's way too much salt,” Ryou insisted and Nusutto nudged him away with an elbow.

“Who's the chef here, you or me?” he asked and Ryou sighed, moving to the table where he began to unbag the groceries and put them in the fridge.

“Fine,” Ryou sighed, rolling his eyes as he quietly added, “just don't hold it against me when I don't eat it.”

“So,” Nusutto said, “how are you doing in school?”

“Good,” Ryou replied, placing the carton of orange juice on the inside of the door, “having a little trouble with history, but ever since Yuugi got there, he's been really helpful.”

“This Yuugi,” Nusutto said slowly, “more than a friend?” He turned his head slightly, eyeing Ryou carefully as he stirred the sizzling meat.

Abruptly, Ryou laughed and shook his head.

“No way,” he said, “and don't even suggest that in front of Atemu or he'll lose his mind. Yuugi's just a friend. He's not my type anyway. Too gullible.”

“But you're … gay?” Nusutto asked and Ryou paused as he opened the cupboard for the vegetables, suddenly looking at the tomatoes in his hands as he hummed in consideration. He tilted his head to the side, shrugging.

“I'm still figuring that out,” he said quietly, placing the tomatoes in the drawer, “so I'm not sure. I do have a crush on a guy, though … not that he really knows I exist.” He paused and looked around at the hallway anxiously. “I just recently started talking to him more,” he admitted. After a moment, he turned back to Nusutto and whispered, “But don't tell Touzoku.”

“No?” Nusutto questioned as he turned his full attention back to the wok, “Why not?” Ryou sighed suddenly and Nusutto glanced at him, eyebrow raised at the desolate sound. “Please tell me it's not one of your teachers,” he said roughly, “I'll go and beat their ass if they so much as touch you. You're underage –”

“It's not a teacher,” Ryou said and stood, a blush filling his cheeks, “he's a student. And it's not a big deal. Seriously, I don't even register on his radar. I'm just 'Touzoku's little brother'.” He shrugged and frowned, turning his gaze away. “But if Touzoku found out, he wouldn't react well … I don't think.”

“That's Touzoku,” Nusutto said with a laugh, “overreacting shit.” He hummed then. “But if things change,” he said, moving back to the cutting board and gathering three zucchinis, “and you find yourself in a relationship, you tell me who the fucker is” – he pointed the knife in his hand at Ryou, who eyed it warily – “no dickhead is gonna date my little brother without my consent –”

“Oh, my god,” Ryou groaned, grabbing the lengths of his towel and pulling it over his face, exasperated.

* * *

When Nusutto was almost done with the chicken stir-fry, he turned to Ryou and said, “Go get your brother. Food's almost ready.”

Quietly, Ryou stood from the table where he had sat and left the kitchen, walking down the hall to his brother's door. He knocked tentatively.

“Touzoku?” he called, “Dinner's almost ready, wash your hands and come eat.”

“No thanks,” came the snarky reply from within and Ryou rolled his eyes.

“Don't make me suffer through Nusutto's cooking alone,” he quietly begged.

“Good luck with that,” Bakura answered without pity.

“C'mon,” Ryou said, “you can't hide in your room forever.”

“Watch me,” was Bakura's childish reply and Ryou pursed his lips.

“Touzoku –”

“Just leave me alone, Ryou,” Bakura sighed and Ryou left the door, making his way back to the kitchen where Nusutto was drying his hands on his shirt.

“He's not coming,” Ryou said and Nusutto frowned. He looked at the food simmering in the wok and motioned to Ryou.

“Turn it off in five minutes,” he directed, “I'll go get him.”

* * *

Bakura shifted onto his side, trying to fall back to sleep's sweet embrace. Unfortunately, Ryou had woken him from his nap and he now had a headache that was throbbing at his temples. He huffed quietly, annoyed that he had been woken at all. He had finally achieved some sense of sleep and his little brother had to go and screw it up – all because of Nusutto. He huffed indignantly.

With a sigh, he flopped over and reached to the floor, feeling around until his fingers gripped his phone. Rolling back, he checked it, impressed that not a scratch was on it. Unlocking the device, he decided it was time to escape. Pulling up Melvin's contact information, he sent a text.

 

**To _This Motherfucker_ :**

**need 2 gtfo. Hlp me.**

 

A knock came at the door and Bakura grit his teeth.

“I said to leave me alone –”

“And I said to come to dinner,” Nusutto replied through the wood and Bakura stiffened minutely. “So come to dinner. I made stir-fry, you ungrateful little shit.”

But Bakura did not reply, his phone vibrating in his hands. He checked the message, eyebrows furrowing at the answer he had received.

 

**From _This Motherfucker_ :**

**ask your bestie Atemu.**

 

“This motherfucker,” Bakura whispered disbelievingly. He stared at the text for all of three seconds before turning off the screen and tossing the phone aside once more. Closing his eyes, he settled down, ready to fall asleep again.

“Thanks for nothing,” he muttered, and on the other side of the door, Nusutto chuckled.

“So that's how it's going to be?” he said amusedly, and Bakura felt a shiver snake down his spine at the dark words. “Ryou told me that you and your boyfriend aren't talking right now,” Nusutto said and Bakura's eyes snapped open.

“He's not my boyfriend,” Bakura snarled, pushing himself up to glare at the door, “I'm not even gay. Fuck off.”

“I experimented once in my youth,” Nusutto said idly, “nothing wrong with it.”

“You're _twenty-_ _six,_ _”_ Bakura snapped, exasperated.

“Ah, to be young and confused,” Nusutto continued as though he had not heard Bakura and Bakura could just imagine him leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest with closed eyes and an infuriating smirk on his face. “His name was Sosuke,” Nusutto said, “we made out and it wasn't until I had my finger in his ass that I realized he wasn't my type, but I was definitely his –”

“Oh, my god,” Bakura groaned, horrified and covering his ears.

“I mean, who could blame him,” Nusutto said smugly, “I'm fucking gorgeous.”

“I'll give you anything if you shut up right _now,”_ Bakura totally did not beg.

“Let me in,” Nusutto instantly requested and Bakura grit his teeth.

“Fine,” he growled leaving his bed to unlock the door before returning to slump back onto his front. He stared determinedly at the wall. Just because he had allowed his brother entrance, did not mean he was giving in. He would not be talking to him.

“Well, this is better,” Nusutto commented as he walked in. He shut the door and made his way over to the bed where he promptly sat on Bakura's back, eliciting an abrupt huff from his younger brother's mouth. “Now we can talk,” he said as Bakura began to struggle, grumbling furiously as his headache throbbed.

“Get the fuck off, you fatass!” Bakura demanded and Nusutto hissed in mock offense, shaking his head.

“Ooh,” he said, making himself comfortable, “now I'm really not moving. I'll have you know I'm all muscle, jackass.”

“Nusutto, get the fuck off!” Bakura snapped, trying, and failing, to hit him.

“Not until we have a decent conversation –” Nusutto began to say when Bakura cut him off.

“When the fuck have we ever had a decent conversation!” Bakura growled.

“I remember you used to look up to me,” Nusutto said with annoyance, “what happened to my cute little brother?” He elbowed Bakura's back and Bakura squirmed angrily.

“Fuck off, I'm not talking to you,” Bakura said and he finally fell still, burying his heated face into his pillow and refusing to speak.

“Touzoku,” Nusutto said, “talk to me or I'll tell you what happened next with Sosuke.”

“Goddammit,” Bakura groaned irately, raising his head slightly, “can't you just fucking leave like you always do?” He dropped his head again, gripping the pillow tightly as though he desired nothing more than to smother himself with it. “Because that's what you're good at – all of you – all you do is _leave.”_

“...What are you talking about?” Nusutto asked, his voice more curious than annoyed. When Bakura did not answer, Nusutto sighed. “So Sosuke is moaning, right? Telling me to go on and put it in –”

“You fucking left! _Alright?”_ Bakura shouted, and Nusutto abruptly stopped talking, his brow furrowed. Bakura lifted the pillow and placed it over his head, wrapping it tightly about his ears. “So do us all a favor and get the fuck out of our lives!” he screamed, voice muffled.

“I'm not leaving,” Nusutto said slowly, but firmly, “I told you – I'm here to stay.”

“Ha!” Bakura scoffed, his voice almost hysterical, “Let's see how long that lasts.” He squirmed some more, irritated when Nusutto would not budge from his back. “That's all you, dad, and mom could do – give us empty promises – now fuck off already! I don't need you and I don't need anyone!”

“Empty promises?” Nusutto prompted, looking down at Bakura's pillow. Again, Bakura did not reply and Nusutto gripped the edge of it, pulling, and Bakura huffed in frustration, recoiling from his hand. “Touzoku, you know I'm not gonna leave you alone until you tell me what your problem is, right?”

“Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about,” Bakura said lowly. He paused for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “Dad promised to be there,” he said, “for mom and for us … but the first thing that son of a bitch did was get the first flight out of town!” Bakura closed his eyes, denying the burn in them. “Then you followed – like you always did. Everything was about you – because you reminded him of _that person_ _.”_

Nusutto did not have to ask who “that person” was. His brother could only be talking about his mother – their father's first wife. One day, she had just packed up and gone, leaving Nusutto with a father that had hoped she would come back for her son … only she never had. Nusutto did not remember her, but their father still did.

“You left,” Bakura said, “just like that – you didn't even think about mom or Ryou.”

 _“Or me,”_ was left unsaid.

“Mom said she'd stay,” Bakura said then, the bitterness in his voice caustic, “said she wouldn't leave us – said she'd fight –”

“You can't blame mom for her passing,” Nusutto said abruptly, “she didn't _choose_ to die, Touzoku.”

“Doesn't matter,” Bakura said fiercely, “she's still gone – she still left us alone.”

Nusutto removed himself from Bakura's back, staring down at him with bafflement before understanding crossed his features. He sighed through his nose, his brow creasing with regret and sorrow. Raising a hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath, searching for the right words.

“Touzoku,” Nusutto said quietly as he lowered his hand, “I'm sorry we left you alone.” It was quiet then and Bakura did not move. For several seconds, there was nothing and Nusutto sighed, preparing to repeat himself. But in the next breath, Bakura was leaping up from the bed and running to the door. Nusutto was quick to act, grabbing his brother by the arm as soon as he opened it. He dragged him back, forcing him still in a tight bear hug. “I'm sorry,” Nusutto said and Bakura struggled, angry grunts leaving his lips as he fought to get away, “Touzoku, I'm _sorry.”_

“Let me _go,”_ Bakura snapped, striking him angrily with a closed fist to the ribs, “I don't give a fuck about your 'sorry'. You didn't even come to the fucking funeral!”

“Touzoku,” Nusutto said, holding his brother still, “I never meant to abandon you – I didn't think you needed me. Dad came back – he was supposed to look after you –”

“Dad was never around!” Bakura yelled, “After mom died, he pretended to stick around, but he was never here! He just waited until I was old enough to look after Ryou and then he just fucking left to join you! I was just fourteen!”

“Touzoku –”

“I fucking _hate you,”_ Bakura bit out, forcing all his rage into one quiet sentence, his hands gripping Nusutto's shirt in tight, shaking fists, “I fucking _hate you.”_

“That's okay,” Nusutto said as Bakura's struggles renewed, “it's okay, I understand.”

“You don't understand anything!” Bakura argued, shoving uselessly at Nusutto's immovable body.

“I'm not leaving you again,” Nusutto said, “I promise.” He held Bakura out at arm's length, meeting his furious and conflicted gaze. “I'm not going to leave you alone again.”

“I don't believe you,” Bakura rasped, and it was obvious to Nusutto that his little brother was trying hard not to cry. His dark, brown eyes were furious and red, glistening at the edges. Dropping his gaze to the ground, Bakura's shoulders slumped. He stopped trying to get away, but he was stiff as a board, hands clenched at his sides, as though ready to pick up a battle ax at any second.

“I sold my house,” Nusutto said, “I sold everything and came here to be with you and with Ryou. I'm not going anywhere, Touzoku. This is my home now.”

“You're nothing but a liar,” Bakura said through gritted teeth, “why should I believe you?”

“I'm here now, ain't I?” Nusutto said, “Don't believe me if it makes you feel better.” He shrugged. “Hate me if it makes you feel better – better yet, punch me.” He let go of Touzoku's arms and stepped back, waving him on. “Go ahead, punch me. Don't be a wuss, do it.”

And Bakura did.

Reeling back an arm, Bakura gathered every ounce of rage and sorrow within himself, and directed it into his arm before he let loose his fist, punching Nusutto right in the cheek. To his credit, Nusutto's expression did not change as his head jerked to the side. Glancing back at Bakura, however, he lifted a hand and rubbed at his jaw, eyebrows rising in surprise. As Bakura shook out his hand, he seemed to deflate, his calm returning. The fight had drained out of him completely and Bakura felt tired all the way to his bones. He looked up at Nusutto, and he could have sworn that his older brother looked just as exhausted as him. Worn by life, shoulders low, and eyes lonely, but hanging on by the ragged fingers of his hands. It felt like looking into a mirror.

“You actually punched me,” Nusutto said with disbelief, and the brief glimpse of his reflection was gone, “nice one.”

“You deserve it,” Bakura said tightly and Nusutto laughed.

“That's my little brother,” he said and he pulled Bakura into a hug. Bakura did not try to push away this time. Instead, he hesitantly reached out his arms and tentatively embraced Nusutto. Just this once, he would let down his guard. There was always tomorrow to fight. But right now, though Bakura would never admit it, he needed this embrace. “I do love ya, kid,” Nusutto said, “and I'm really not going anywhere. But I'm not promising – because you have so little faith in promises, so I'll prove it with every day that I'm here.”

“Shut up, Nusutto,” Bakura mumbled, his fingers gripping at Nusutto's shirt, “you're ruining it.”

Affectionately, Nusutto rubbed Bakura's white locks, chuckling.

“Come on in, kiddo,” he said, “join the hug.”

Before Bakura could ask what Nusutto was talking about, a second person embraced him and Nusutto both. Bakura only had to glance around to see Ryou's downy hair at his shoulder. His stomach churned then, guilt rising within him. He had forgotten Ryou was home, hearing them fight. Removing an arm from Nusutto, he pulled Ryou's trembling form close.

“This isn't going to become a thing,” Bakura said sourly and Nusutto laughed again, his embrace tightening around them. Of the three of them, Ryou seemed to be the only one capable of healthily expression his emotions. They were not good with words, he and Nusutto. They would undoubtedly fight again given the chance. Bakura doubted they would even get along. He could still feel the resentment in his heart, simmering just below the surface. Their battle was not over yet, but Nusutto's hold was a comfort, reassuring him that no matter what the future brought, his older brother was home now. Bakura could only hope that he would stay.

For Ryou's sake, of course.

“Sure thing, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Bakura bros are trying, honestly. Please let me know what you thought with comments and kudos!
> 
> And now that news!
> 
> I have a new fic about werewolves/supernatural. It's pretty long 80,000+ words, but not completed as of yet. I've been thinking whether or not to post it, considering I still have MIL and TA to work on. So to solve my dilemma, I have created a poll on twitter! Now, I do want to stress that if I do start posting this new fic (which I kind of do want to do), both MIL and TA will take longer to update. Please vote! (Voting ends a week from now on Mon. Sep, 26) (Warning: comments will not be taken as votes. Only the poll counts, so pls do vote.)
> 
> Also, voting is private! I do not see who votes!
> 
> Taken directly from Twitter Support:  
> "When you vote in a poll, your participation is not shown to others: neither the poll creator nor other participants can see who has voted or how they voted."
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> [Poll Here](https://twitter.com/uglybuffet/status/777759924470165504)  
>  **
> 
> *Edit*
> 
> Note: unfortunately, you do need a Twitter account to vote.


	21. I'm Scared Of Losing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A large group, brought together by Yuugi's will, ventures out for milkshakes. Friendships are formed and others are tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Some news:** I've been working on a challenge fic for [YGOME16](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/YGOME16), which has delayed my updating even more. However, I will soon be done with it! This challenge fic will be revealed on Halloween, so mark your calendars for October 31st, friends!
> 
> In addition to the challenge fic, I'm still working on my new supernatural fic, "Morality, Dost Thou Hear Me?" I should have the first chapter ready soon, so y'all can look forward to that as well! (I will most likely announce on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/uglybuffet) when I plan to post it, so go ahead and follow me!) 
> 
> And finally, to this chapter. I hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> *Edit* 
> 
> Turns out, the challenge fic with be released Nov. 16, and _not_ on Halloween like originally planned.

_I hate this,_ Atemu thought. _I really, really, really –_ Yuugi sent him a sweet smile from across the table and Atemu's thoughts derailed _– really, really want to kiss Yuugi,_ he finished. They were in a restaurant, the entire group sans the Bakura brothers. Atemu was fidgeting with his straw, stuck between Melvin and Anzu on one side of the table. At one end, sat Vivian with a large sundae. At the other, sat Malik with a coconut ice cream scoop on a chocolate cone in one hand and his cellphone in the other. Straight across from Atemu with Yuugi in the middle, were Jounouchi and Honda, glaring right at him with suspicion and a shake each. They were Yuugi's “guard dogs”, as Atemu had dubbed them. The three were not talking to each other, simply glaring as Yuugi sat uncomfortably, overly aware of their dirty looks. Neither of the three wanted to draw the proverbial white flag.

“Well you're wrong,” Vivian was saying, waving her spoon imperiously. She was one of the only people talking, aware and uncaring of the grudge match between Atemu and Honda specifically. No doubt, she had started the conversation precisely because of it, annoyed by the awkward silence after they had sat. Even Jounouchi stopped glaring long enough to throw in his two cents. So ignoring them, Vivian said, “You clearly have no taste in horror flicks.”

“I'll have you know,” Melvin said around his straw, waving a hand in her direction, “that Alfred Hitchcock was a brilliant man – and _Ringu_ was fucking terrible.”

“That's not an argument,” Vivian retorted and Melvin bristled indignantly.

“I'm surprised you even like horror,” Anzu piped up and Vivian stuck her tongue out playfully.

“I'm full of hidden depths,” Vivian said smugly and both Melvin and Anzu rolled their eyes. Between them, Atemu snorted into his straw.

“Full of hot air is more like it,” Melvin said snidely, and Atemu silently agreed.

“And you're full of shit,” Vivian said, steadfast, “if you're going to come at me, at least have a valid argument to back up your bull. Have some national pride.”

For a moment, no one spoke as they all looked at Melvin, all but Malik, who continued to stare at his phone. Even Honda and Atemu turned their way in curiosity. They waited as Melvin stared at Vivian, expression carefully free of emotion. Vivian raised her eyebrows at Melvin, a taunt, and he smirked at her.

“You know neither of us is actually Japanese, right?” Melvin said seriously, and Vivian nodded with a careless shrug.

“So?” she retorted, “Fight me about it.”

At her words, Melvin watched her with scrutinizing eyes. The seconds dragged on, and Atemu shifted away from Melvin, wary that he would suddenly leap and be caught in the crossfire. But then the nerve-fraying quiet was broken by some very unexpected words.

“I like you,” Melvin said suddenly and Vivian smiled prettily at him. Atemu raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and across the table, Honda grimaced. Adjacent to Vivian, Anzu sighed, shaking her head with reluctant amusement.

“Don't get too attached,” Vivian said with a wink and Melvin blew her a sarcastic kiss in response.

“I still think you're both wrong and horror sucks ass – it's completely unbelievable, _especially_ supernatural horror,” Jounouchi inputted, “there's no such thing as ghosts.”

Looking to him, Anzu rolled her eyes again.

“You're just saying that because you're terrified of horror films, pee-pants,” she said and a brilliant blush filled Jounouchi's cheeks, his whiskey-brown eyes widening in shock before he frowned.

“You know _nothing,”_ he hissed suspiciously as Honda snorted, the first sign of life from him up until that point. Anzu grinned and Jounouchi turned to Honda, glaring over Yuugi's purple curls. “Tell me you fucking didn't,” Jounouchi growled.

“Didn't what?” Yuugi spoke up curiously, removing himself from his position as unwilling spectator.

“Nothing,” Jounouchi said quickly, shaking his head resolutely, “absolutely nothing!”

“Oh, wait a second,” Atemu said thoughtfully, “'pee-pants' … I think I remember hearing about this.” He raised a finger and pointed it at Jounouchi, eyebrows rising. “Some kid snuck into a horror movie six years ago and ended up peeing himself in the theater.” He grinned maliciously. “Don't tell me that was you?” Beside him, Anzu giggled and Melvin snorted.

“I was _ten!”_ Jounouchi cried out indignantly, “Screw you guys!” He punched Honda in the shoulder when he laughed outright, jostling Yuugi. “You told!”

“Of course I did!” Honda laughed, wiping a tear from his eye, “I was ten too!”

“You asshole!” Jounouchi punched him in the arm again and Honda punched him back, still laughing. Yuugi ducked, avoiding the flying fists warily, but grateful that his friends were finally loosening up.

“Dude, you were ten,” Melvin said suddenly, “and you peed your pants because you were scared. Shit happens, get over it.”

“Okay,” Jounouchi said, full of bravado, “I don't like horror movies – I'm man enough to admit it. They creep me out. It's normal to be scared of something – everyone is!” He jabbed a finger in Melvin's direction. “You're probably not scared of anything, right, Ishtar?”

All turned to look at Melvin then, expectant, and Melvin nodded.

“I'm scared of the dark,” Melvin said with a delighted smirk.

“Very funny,” Honda snorted sarcastically, a sneer at the corner of his mouth, “of course _he_ isn't scared of anything.” In response, Melvin shrugged and Honda gestured at him as he looked around as though to say, _“See my point?”_

“I'm scared of knives,” Malik said abruptly. He did not look up at anyone, but his phone tilted down and Yuugi briefly saw what appeared to be white hair and a plastic tiara before Malik turned off the screen. Glancing at Malik's face, Yuugi saw anxiety in his eyes. Malik's hand clenched on his phone, knuckles turning white. No one spoke, but all eyes were on him, refusing to look away. Licking his lips, Yuugi cleared his throat.

“I'm scared of losing my friends,” Yuugi said, and Malik looked at him when the rest had turned away, the edge of his lips twitching up ever so slightly in gratitude. Yuugi smiled encouragingly at him and looked around, waiting and hoping someone else would take the spotlight.

“I'm scared of losing a limb,” Anzu added, rubbing at her arms where goosebumps had sprouted.

“Fire,” Vivian said simply, grimacing.

“Monkeys,” Honda mumbled.

Silence followed his statement and each one of them slowly turned to look at Atemu, even Melvin. However, Atemu sat stonily, eyes fixed on his shake. His gaze lifted to Yuugi then, looking at him for a long moment, expression indiscernible before glancing around at the rest of them.

“My turn?” he asked needlessly, humming in consideration. His eyes flicked to Yuugi again, and there was a hesitation that had not been there before. “I'm scared of” – his eyes flicked back to the table, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped – “nothing.” He shrugged, focusing on his milkshake as he drank.

“I was wrong before,” Vivian piped up. She pointed to Melvin. “He's not the one full of shit.” Her hand swiveled to point at Atemu. _“He_ is.”

Anzu, Honda, and Melvin laughed at her statement while Atemu ignored them, his eyes stubbornly remaining on his milkshake. Malik, seemingly bored of his surroundings, went back to his phone with a creased brow. Jounouchi, however, was frowning as they laughed, his eyes darting from Yuugi to Atemu. He seemed to be searching for something, his brow becoming more furrowed by the second. Whether he found what he was looking for was unclear, but Jounouchi settled back in his chair and picked up his cup, chewing on his straw in thought. Yuugi, on the other hand, looked confused, but said nothing and hoped Atemu would meet his gaze.

Atemu did not.

* * *

The chatter picked up again after a few moments, started again by Vivian. They all spoke amicably, though Honda carefully avoided talking to either Melvin or Atemu. The sensitive topic of fears was not broached again, their conversation remaining lighthearted as they discussed the movies currently out in the theater. They spoke until their treats ran out, and it was Melvin who looked to Malik after checking the time on his phone.

“Malik, time to go,” he said as he stood, and Malik cut himself off from where he was talking to Yuugi, rolling his eyes before standing as well.

“I'll tell you tomorrow,” Malik said to Yuugi.

“Leaving already?” Vivian teased.

“The tourists won't terrify themselves,” Melvin easily returned, and Vivian snorted in amusement.

“What time is it?” Yuugi suddenly asked.

“Fifteen to five,” Melvin answered him, and Yuugi sat up straight.

“Oh, I need to be getting home,” he said, and Honda shot out of his chair.

“Let's get you home then!” Honda said brightly, grabbing Yuugi's trash and disposing of it in a nearby trashcan. He returned to the table to grab Yuugi, almost pulling him bodily out of his seat. On the other side of the table, Atemu's eyes narrowed.

“Yo, hold up for me,” Jounouchi said and he also got up.

“Wanna go shopping?” Vivian said as she turned to Anzu and received a grin in reply.

“Sure!” Anzu said.

Together, they all stood from the table and began to toss their trash. They started for the door in a group, and Yuugi searched for Atemu, pleased when he saw Atemu following behind them.

“So, Yuugi,” Jounouchi said as the group exited the shop, standing around the entrance and preparing to part ways. The sun was low in the sky, close to sunset. “Walk you home?” He smiled encouragingly, waiting for Yuugi's answer. Behind him, Atemu took pause, his eyes going from Jounouchi to Yuugi.

“Oh,” Yuugi said, his gaze darting to Atemu and his voice lowering to a mumble, “I kind of wanted to walk with Atemu.”

“Well, that's no problem,” Honda said, moving up beside them, “we can all go together!”

However, Yuugi did not look so sure.

“C'mon,” Honda said, nudging his shoulder, but Yuugi continued to hesitate. Behind Jounouchi, Atemu opened his mouth, ready to speak up, when Jounouchi beat him to the punch.

“We'll walk together another day,” Jounouchi said, clapping a hand to Yuugi's shoulder, “you go ahead and walk with Atemu.”

“You don't mind?” Yuugi asked carefully and Honda gaped at Jounouchi in disbelief.

“Dude,” Honda smacked Jounouchi pointedly with the back of his hand and Jounouchi let go of Yuugi, turning to Honda and shrugging at him.

“Let them go together,” Jounouchi said lowly, “we can go with him next time.” To Yuugi, he smiled and said, “Go ahead. Walk with Atemu, Yuugi. I'll walk Honda home. See ya tomorrow, bud.”

“What the –” But before Honda could finish his remark, Jounouchi had yanked him off to the side.

“Bye, girls!” Jounouchi rapidly yelled over his shoulder, not bothering to wait for a reply.

Yuugi watched them go with confusion before Atemu moved over to him. When he turned his head, Yuugi noted that Atemu was watching Jounouchi with a peculiar expression. It looked like curiosity and suspicion.

“So,” Yuugi said and Atemu's gaze darted back to him, a smile pulling at his lips, “just us?”

“Just us,” Atemu agreed as Melvin called out to him.

“You coming?”

“I'm walking Yuugi home,” Atemu called back and Melvin nodded before ushering Malik along, only bothering to nod at Vivian before he left. She waved at him, a cheeky smile lighting up her face.

“Bye, Yuugi!” Malik said, waving with one hand, the other tightly clutching his phone as Melvin led him away and Yuugi quickly called a goodbye.

“Hey, Atemu!” Anzu walked over with Vivian, pausing beside him and Atemu turned to them with wary eyes. “This was fun,” she said, “we should do this again sometime.”

“It _was_ fun,” Atemu said with some surprise on his part. Nodding, he looked at Anzu, and for once, he did not have to force himself to be pleasant when he said, “See you at school.”

“Cool,” Anzu replied and she turned to Yuugi, “you too, Yuugi. I had fun.” She reached out and hugged him then, earning a squeak of surprise from Yuugi and an incredulous glare from Atemu. Gone was the inkling of friendship that briefly crossed his mind as his gut twisted with restraint. He was five seconds away from prying them apart when she pulled away and smiled at Atemu who only glowered, jaw visibly clenched. “See you both at school.”

“Y-you too,” Yuugi mumbled bashfully. But before she could back up, Yuugi spoke. “A-Anzu,” Yuugi said, “do you want Atemu and I to walk you and Vivian home?”

“The hell I will,” Atemu muttered under his breath.

“Oh, no thanks,” Anzu said with a shake of her head, “Vivian and I are gonna hang out for a while more.”

“Okay,” Yuugi said and Vivian pushed forward, yanking Yuugi into a tight hug. Flustered, Yuugi sputtered incoherently for several seconds before he was released to see Vivian's wide grin.

“See you later, cutie,” she winked and an incredulous huff left Atemu's lips. She turned to him then, a smug smile to her lips, and Atemu gritted his teeth. “See ya, grumpy-pants,” she said sweetly before darting to Anzu and pulling her along. They both waved goodbye and Yuugi shyly waved back at them, his face a bright red.

“Those damn girls,” Atemu groused, crossing his arms moodily. He turned to Yuugi, frowning when he noted Yuugi's pleased appearance. “Did you,” he said hesitantly, “enjoy that?”

“Huh?” Yuugi asked, looking to Atemu distractedly. Atemu's frown deepened and he looked away, hurt in his expression and avoiding Yuugi's gaze.

“Nothing,” Atemu mumbled, “let's get you home.” He dropped his arms and turned around, preparing to start the trek to Yuugi's house, when he was suddenly pulled back by a hand taking his own. Looking back, Atemu saw Yuugi's concerned expression and he looked away again. “You ready?” he asked.

“Atemu,” Yuugi questioned quietly, “are you … jealous right now?”

“Yes,” Atemu said flatly, staring hard at the ground, “but it doesn't matter. If you like them, it's fine –”

“I like _you,”_ Yuugi said and Atemu paused, cautiously meeting Yuugi's gaze. “They're really pretty,” Yuugi said with a blush, “so, yeah, I get embarrassed when they pay attention to me.” He shrugged and his blush spread across the bridge of his nose. “But I only like you.”

“Oh,” Atemu said dumbly and he reached up his other hand, scrubbing at the back of his head in thought. “I mean,” he said, “you can like whoever you want – it's not like we're boyfriends.”

“I know,” Yuugi said, shrugging nonchalantly, “and I like you.” He smiled then, that sweet smile that made Atemu's insides flip and rearrange themselves into different geometric shapes.

“I like you too,” Atemu said, an infatuated smile pulling at his lips.

“Good,” Yuugi said and they stood there for several seconds, embarrassed and pleased, until Atemu's hand gently squeezed Yuugi's.

“Can we,” Atemu cleared his throat nervously, “maybe … hold hands as we walk?”

“Okay,” Yuugi agreed and Atemu reaffirmed his hold on Yuugi's hand, delighted.

“Let's get you home then,” Atemu said and Yuugi nodded, moving to his side as they started to walk.

There was silence for the first few minutes, the pair of them simply enjoying each other's company and the warmth of their tenderly clasped hands. They ignored passerby stares, too lost in their own precious world. Atemu looked both ways before crossing the street, overly aware of the beloved person standing at his side and wanting nothing more than to keep him safe. It was not until their third street that Yuugi finally shifted, tilting his head to the side in contemplation. His brow furrowed with worry and he cleared his throat.

“Hey, Atemu?” he called softly, unsure. Beside him, Atemu glanced at him, acknowledging him before he returned his eyes to the path before them.

“Yes?” Atemu answered.

“Um,” Yuugi hesitated and Atemu felt his brow crease questioningly, “it's just...” Shrugging, Yuugi fell silent for all of three seconds before he took an encouraged breath. “I know it's going to be difficult,” Yuugi said, “but Honda and Jounouchi are my friends. They mean a lot to me.” He raised his head to look at Atemu. There was nothing to Atemu's expression that he could identify. Yuugi could not tell what he was thinking. Regardless, he continued. “I would really appreciate it if you could somehow … get along with them?”

Atemu gave no reply. He did not even look at Yuugi. His forehead creased in contemplation and he sighed slowly. However, his hold on Yuugi's hand only became firmer and that filled Yuugi with hope.

“I can't really promise that we'll get along, little one,” Atemu said apologetically, and Yuugi felt his spirits dip, “but I can promise that I will try. I will remain civil.” He turned his gaze upon Yuugi then and the edges of his lips turned up in reassurance. “For you, I will try my best.”

To say that Atemu's words did not make Yuugi's silly little heart flip would be a lie. Because Yuugi's heart somersaulted in his chest with the practiced ease of a gymnast as it often did around Atemu. Smiling, Yuugi turned his face away, content with the thought that Atemu would try to get along with his friends. It was then that another thought came to Yuugi and he frowned to himself, contemplative.

“Back at the restaurant,” Yuugi said carefully and Atemu glanced to the side, noting Yuugi's curious expression. He listened as he kept an eye on the path ahead of them. “You said you weren't scared of anything,” Yuugi said as he turned his head to look at Atemu, meeting that violet-red gaze, “are you really not scared of anything at all?”

“I'm scared of something,” Atemu admitted softly, and Yuugi's violet eyes widened in disbelief, “I just didn't think it was anyone else's business.”

“Oh,” Yuugi said, dropping his gaze to the sidewalk. They walked down the block and Atemu took a breath, letting it out slowly.

“The thing I'm scared of,” Atemu said, and Yuugi looked at him, surprised as though he had not expected Atemu to continue. Atemu licked his dry lips nervously and cleared his throat. “I'm scared of … well, it's pretty silly,” Atemu said and Yuugi frowned.

“What is it?” Yuugi asked, pressing closer in his curiosity, “I won't laugh.”

“I'm scared...” Atemu said and he stopped walking, bringing Yuugi to a halt with him. He met Yuugi's gaze and his jaw clenched minutely before he sighed. “Well, I'm scared of myself.”

“Yourself?” Yuugi echoed, eyes wide.

“You're a good part in my life,” Atemu explained with a shrug, “And I'm scared I'll fu – uh, mess this good thing up.” He sighed, running his unoccupied hand through his hair. “I don't want to ruin this,” he admitted softly, “by screwing up – getting in a fight in the heat of the moment, or doing something equally stupid without thinking.” He grit his teeth, swallowing past the lump forming in his throat. “I know myself and what I'm capable of, and I just don't want to screw this up,” he said heavily, “because then I would lose you.”

“Oh,” Yuugi said, blinking his wide eyes and casting his gaze around the busy street. He opened his mouth to say more, but his words failed him and he closed it again. A frown creased his brow and Atemu shifted uncomfortably.

“It's silly, right?” Atemu asked and Yuugi met his eyes, shaking his head.

“No,” Yuugi said earnestly, “it's not silly.” He rubbed the knuckles underneath his thumb and smiled gently. “I have faith in you, Atemu,” he said. Atemu blinked at him and his expression rippled with various emotions, struggling to settle on a single one. “I know you'll try your best.” Finally, Atemu smiled, and Yuugi blushed. His heart thumped in his chest and he looked at the ground, shrugging. “I'm a little surprised,” he said lightly, “I thought maybe you were secretly afraid of spiders or penguins –”

“Penguins?” Atemu repeated, puzzled.

“They can be scary,” Yuugi said defensively, “Emperor Penguins are _really_ big!”

“I don't doubt it,” Atemu said quickly and Yuugi deflated, “I just never heard of anyone being scared of _penguins.”_ He shook his head bemusedly. “But it's … understandable,” he said carefully and Yuugi smiled at him, “you're not actually scared of penguins, are you?”

“No,” Yuugi said cheekily, “but I wouldn't go near them if they crossed my path.”

“To be honest,” Atemu said with a wry tilt of his lips, “I wouldn't either.” They laughed together and Atemu suddenly stopped, his head whipping around to stare down the street. Catching his breath, Yuugi looked up at him and frowned. Atemu's gaze was sharp and serious, the mirror opposite of three seconds before.

“What are you looking at?” Yuugi asked, turning around, but he was abruptly pulled back as Atemu started walking, his pace quick and his hand tightening on Yuugi's. When Yuugi stumbled, Atemu sent him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he said, “I wasn't looking at anything. I just thought I saw someone I recognized.”

“O-okay,” Yuugi said stiltedly, “why are we walking so fast?”

“It's going to get dark soon,” Atemu said nonchalantly, “it's not safe to walk at night.” They dodged passerby and Yuugi distinctly felt Atemu's pace quicken.

“Yeah,” Yuugi agreed, slightly breathless, “but it won't be dark for at least half an hour.” He tried to meet Atemu's eyes then, but Atemu was staring straight ahead, unrelenting. “Is everything okay?” Yuugi gasped, his shorter legs struggling to keep up, “I can't walk this fast.”

It was only then that Atemu slowed his pace, but only barely. He directed another apologetic look at Yuugi who smiled back with forgiveness.

“Forgive me, little one,” Atemu said, and Yuugi's already racing heart skipped a beat at the endearment. “I didn't realize I was walking so fast.”

“That's okay,” Yuugi said and it was with a grand sense of disappointment that he saw they were drawing close to his home. “Today was fun,” Yuugi said.

“It was,” Atemu agreed.

“We should do this more often,” Yuugi said, “all of us going out together.”

“Sure,” Atemu said.

“And we should do the other thing too,” Yuugi added lightly, “going out … just us.”

“Yeah – a date?” Atemu suddenly came to an abrupt stop, and Yuugi skidded on the sidewalk as he was yanked back. Atemu caught him, staring at Yuugi in disbelief as he steadied him with a hand on the back of his shoulder. “You want to go out with me again?”

“Don't look so surprised,” Yuugi mumbled, a blush lighting up his cheeks, “we're dating … aren't we?”

“No, yeah, of course,” Atemu said quickly before he shrugged sheepishly, “I just thought … after Burger World –”

“Atemu,” Yuugi said patiently, “if learning that you killed a man hasn't sent me running” – he raised his eyebrows pointedly at Atemu whose face twisted at the reminder – “a little drama isn't going to chase me away.” With a cautious look at their barren surroundings, Yuugi stepped forward, moving up on his tiptoes to place a kiss on Atemu's jaw, right underneath the bandaid. When he stepped away, Yuugi felt his face burn and Atemu stared at him, wide-eyed and grinning. “I told you,” Yuugi said quietly, “I like you.” His cheeks were crimson, and when Atemu only continued to smile, Yuugi pulled him along, embarrassed.

“Sunday,” Atemu said suddenly and Yuugi glanced back at him, bewildered. Atemu's grin widened, pleased, and he elaborated. “Are you free? For a date?”

“Yes,” Yuugi said, turning away, and Atemu squeezed his hand. The rest of the walk was silent, Yuugi too mortified to speak, and Atemu too pleased to think. When they arrived at the shop, Yuugi paused a little ways away from the door and turned, his gaze on the ground.

“So,” Yuugi said, but his voice trailed off, and Atemu reached out, tilting his chin up. He smiled gently and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Yuugi's cheek.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Atemu said and he glanced around briefly before clearing his throat. “Better get inside,” he said, backing away.

“Wait,” Yuugi said, holding up a hand, “wouldn't you like to come in?”

“Can't,” Atemu said, shaking his head, “got something to do. I'll see you tomorrow, little one. Promise.” He waved and Yuugi waved back uncertainly before he turned around, ready to go inside. Yet, as he touched the shop door, a niggling doubt in his mind bade him to turn and he did, watching Atemu as he departed. He saw Atemu rapidly cross the street and Yuugi shook his head to himself, feeling silly. He made to go inside, when he saw Atemu dart into an alley next. Utterly confused, and even a little concerned, Yuugi stared and his eyes widened when Jounouchi and Honda rushed across the street after him.

“Oh, boy,” Yuugi muttered and he turned away from the door completely, any thought of going inside gone as he ran after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's trouble a-brewing.


	22. Truth Will Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving Yuugi safe at home, Atemu is chased through Domino City. Trouble is coming for him, and unfortunately for Atemu, it will not leave without giving him his just desserts. In a more alarming twist, and unbeknownst to Atemu, Yuugi has followed after him in worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned to post this after the [YGOME16](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/YGOME16) reveal. However, due to some delays, I got the chance to post this earlier! I sure hope you enjoy!
> 
> **Warning: Violence, Blood**

As soon as he stepped into the alley, Atemu was running. His feet pounded the asphalt, and his breaths steadily puffed through his nose. Not daring to glance back, he kept his eyes on the path ahead, for distraction would decrease his speed. As he came out the other end, he swiftly scanned the street before running across, barely dodging the oncoming traffic. Tires screeched and horns honked in his wake, but Atemu flew by, uncaring and determined. Seconds later, he heard tires screech again and another plethora of frightened honks coming from behind him.

Gritting his teeth, Atemu ran faster.

It was not until he was back in the business district that he stopped. Atemu carefully made his way to the end of the alley and peered out, frowning. Just around the corner, he noted a teenager looking up and down the street, their back to him. Without a sound, Atemu retreated, expression hard and jaw clenched. Turning around, he made his way back, halting when two figures darted into view, waltzing up to him and barring his way out. He stared at them, confused. Looking into both pairs of brown eyes, he spoke.

“What are _you_ doing here?” he asked.

“Could a-ask the same thi-ing,” Honda huffed, panting heavily with his hands on his knees, “damn, you run fast.”

“Yeah,” Jounouchi agreed, nodding his head. His chest heaved and he braced his hands on his hips, closing his eyes momentarily and blinking rapidly, “what the hell man...” He gulped down air, winded. “Your legs … are shorter.”

“I don't have time for this,” Atemu bit out, a tone of impatience rolling off his tongue, “you have a problem with Yuugi and I, that's too fucking bad. Buzz off.” He moved then, shoving past them, but Honda grabbed his arm and Atemu ripped away, glaring.

“Yuugi's not around, _Honda,”_ Atemu spat, “I can and _will_ kick your ass if you provoke me.”

“No,” Honda said with a grimace as he finally caught his breath with a deep inhale, “you're right. Yuugi's not around.” He straightened, shrugging his shoulders. “And I don't care. You're not getting out of this that easy.” Beside him, Jounouchi peered at Honda out of the corner of his eyes, a crease in his brow, though he said nothing.

“Look,” Atemu said, temper barely held at bay, “you want me to kick your teeth in?” He held out his arms, shrugging. “Fine,” he said with a sarcastic laugh, “I will.” In reaction, Jounouchi dropped his hands and clenched them at his sides, ready. Honda scoffed at Atemu's threat and Atemu gritted his teeth. “But let's do it another day,” Atemu said. “Right now? Do yourselves a favor and get the fuck out –”

 _“There_ you are, Atemu Goutei,” interrupted a new voice, and Atemu cursed. “You run pretty fast for a short guy.”

“Shit,” Atemu hissed as he turned, his entire body tensing.

Turning the corner was a large teen, burly and dark-skinned. Lifting his fingers to his mouth, he let out an ear-piercing whistle, and Atemu grimaced, turning his head to see Jounouchi and Honda's confused expressions.

“Leave this place,” he whispered to them, and Jounouchi looked at him, baffled. Honda was gaping at the teen ahead.

“Jounouchi and Honda, right?” the teen said, and Atemu turned to look at him, clearing his throat.

“Yasui,” Atemu said calmly, “they were just leaving.”

“Alright,” Yasui agreed with a nod and he waved a hand behind them, “I have no quarrel with you two.”

“Quarrel?” Honda said, raising his hands in surrender, “Of course not. Sorry. We'll be going.”

“What's going on here exactly?” Jounouchi asked, and Atemu turned to glare at him.

“Jounouchi, get the hell out of here,” Atemu said, and Honda yanked at Jounouchi's arm, insisting.

“Yeah, man, let's get out of here,” he whispered urgently, “that guy's from Ushio's crowd.”

“You go then,” Jounouchi said to him, pulling his arm away, “I'm staying.”

“Alright,” said Yasui, holding his hands up as two more guys entered the alley behind him, “I'll make things plain.” He pointed to Atemu. “We're here to kick his ass in Ushio's name,” he said with a wicked smile in Atemu's direction. “No one hurts one of our own without consequences.” He turned his gaze back to Jounouchi. “You two had nothing to do with it,” Yasui said, “so I suggest you skedaddle – Uchida, let them go.” Behind Jounouchi and Honda, a fourth teen moved aside.

“Jounouchi, Honda,” Atemu said, “beat it.”

“Four of you against one of him?” Jounouchi said with a glance behind him. “Doesn't seem fair.”

“Jounouchi, what the _hell_ are you doing, man?” Honda begged, “Let's leave before they decide to get us too.”

“I'm not leaving,” Jounouchi said firmly, “you go.”

“I'm not going to leave you alone,” Honda retorted, “I can't believe you.”

“I'm not going to give you another chance,” Yasui said, “leave now or you join Goutei.”

“It's _Atemu!”_ Atemu snapped.

“Yeah, rile them up,” Honda growled, “that's _exactly_ what we need you to do right now.”

“This isn't your fight, you morons,” Atemu said, “fuck off.”

“It might not be,” Jounouchi said lowly, “but all I can think about is Yuugi's face if he learned that we abandoned you.”

“I don't think you understand, Jounouchi,” Atemu said as the teens around them grew impatient, tapping their feet and shifting restlessly, “I'm not fighting them. Leave.”

“So, what, you're going to let them kick your ass?” Jounouchi sputtered.

“That's the idea,” Atemu said darkly, “Yuugi told me not to fight – I'm keeping my promise because my word is my bond.”

“Okay, that changes things,” Honda said and he yanked on Jounouchi firmly, “we are _not_ going to get our asses kicked because of this moron.” He pulled again on Jounouchi's arm, and Jounouchi went, his wide eyes on Atemu as he was pulled away. Atemu watched them go, a grim look crossing his features. Before they were out of sight, Atemu looked away, facing the crew head-on. The sun was already setting, casting the sky above in oranges, pinks, and purples. Atemu ironically thought it was an excellent backdrop for the beating that would come.

* * *

“He's not _actually_ going to let his ass get kicked,” Honda said resolutely as they made their way home, Jounouchi silent by Honda's side. “He just said that so he could save face when Yuugi finds out he put four more guys in the hospital.”

Jounouchi looked at Honda, shaking his head. He recalled Atemu's face, grim and determined. He shook his head again.

“No,” Jounouchi said, “he's really going to let them – he put Ushio in the fucking hospital.” Rubbing at his head in distress, Jounouchi stilled in the middle of the sidewalk, his jaw working as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Even if he _does_ fight back, it's four against one,” he said, “they're going to _kill_ him.” He turned back, taking two steps when Honda grabbed his arm.

“No,” Honda snapped, “we're not going to help that creep. He got himself into that mess, he can get himself out.”

“What will Yuugi say?” Jounouchi turned on Honda, incensed and frustrated, “He's not going to forgive us if Atemu gets hurt.” He sighed heavily, pulling his arm from Honda's grip. He turned, beginning to walk away. “I'm going back – Yuugi cares about him.”

“We're doing him a favor,” Honda snorted, pulling Jounouchi back by the scruff of his shirt. “That guy is bad news and this will definitely show Yuugi _exactly_ what kind of scum he is.”

* * *

“I really need to start working out,” Yuugi panted, holding a stitch at his side as he turned the corner. “Of course I lost them.” He sighed. The sun had set and the street lights were turning on one by one. “I'm so out of shape,” he whined as he made his way down the nearly empty street. This part of the business district was not so popular, the buildings around were offices, rather than shopping centers or restaurants. Yuugi wandered up and down the empty streets, his eyes searching in vain for his friends and his not-quite-boyfriend.

 _I really hope they're not fighting,_ he thought, glancing around as he walked, _please don't be fighting._

As he passed an alley, he heard it, the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh. Freezing in place, Yuugi took a breath as he turned, his eyes widening at what he saw. The alley was lit by the street lamp across the street. Smack dab in the center, were four large teenagers, their uniform jackets removed and their sleeves rolled up past their elbows. In the middle of their destruction ring, was Atemu, face bloodied, but standing defiantly, a hand cradling his right side. Heart skipping a beat, Yuugi gasped. The next thing he knew, he was running, the wind rushing past his ears.

“That all you got?” came the sound of Atemu's sarcastic baritone. Yuugi watched as one of the teens lashed out, striking him on the chin, and Atemu fell with a grunt. “My mom spanked me harder than that,” Atemu said with a laugh, rolling onto his back like he had simply been resting.

“This son of a bitch just won't shut the fuck up,” said Yasui, throwing up his hands in frustration. “Fujioka, kick him, see if you can make him stop talking.” Fujioka moved forward, a tall lanky teen with a mean smile and thin eyebrows.

“No!” Yuugi shouted and he rushed into their ring, dropping to Atemu's side and meeting his shocked gaze with one of frantic worry. “Leave him alone!” Yuugi cried, raising his head to stare at them all. “There's no need to fight!”

“Who the hell is this?” Fujioka said, voice nasal and high-pitched.

“That new kid,” grunted Yasui, unconcerned with the turn of events, “Aizawa, get him out of the way.”

“Yuugi,” Atemu gasped, eyes wide and filled with anxiety, “Yuugi, get out of here!” Aizawa, a short teen with a patchy goatee came forward and grabbed Yuugi's arm. Instantly, Atemu was on his feet, shoving Aizawa away and putting Yuugi at his back, wincing as he went. “Stay behind me,” Atemu gasped.

“Oh, _now_ he gets some fight in him,” chortled Uchida, a tall and wide teen with a very deep voice. “Wonder what will happen if we squish the shortie.”

“Yuugi,” Atemu whispered, “you need to run.”

“No,” Yuugi said stubbornly and he used Atemu's shock to shove him back. He stepped forward, holding out his arms to prevent the group from getting to him. “This has to stop.”

“What a pain,” Yasui said, lifting a hand to wipe at his brow, a grimace on his face. “Fujioka.” Before Atemu could act, Fujioka had stepped forward and grabbed Yuugi by the front of his shirt. In the next second, Fujioka had pulled him and shoved him away.

“Get going, kid,” Fujioka grunted in annoyance, shoving Yuugi towards the end of the alley. “Ain't your mommy looking for you?”

“I'm not a kid!” Yuugi snapped, turning around to glare at Fujioka.

“Don't touch him!” Atemu snarled. “Yuugi, run!” He attempted to leap to Yuugi's side, but he was blocked by Yasui who slammed him to the ground. Atemu hit the ground hard, winded. A ringing sprang up in his head, a high-pitched whine that reverberated in his skull. He opened his eyes, forcing them into focus. He could hear the voices, but the words escaped him, muffled past the ringing, and he concentrated on getting his limbs to obey him.

“Atemu!” Yuugi cried.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Yasui said, laughing as Atemu stood. He easily knocked him down once more, taking advantage of Atemu's fugue state. “Looks like we found his pressure point.”

“If punches won't hurt him,” Uchida shrugged.

“Way ahead of you,” Aizawa said and he grabbed Yuugi by his hair before punching him in the face. Yuugi went down instantly and cradled his cheek, a small whimper leaving his lips. That was all it took to snap Atemu back to his surroundings. His eyes widened, and even though his head was still scattered, he made for Yuugi, a fresh surge of adrenaline shooting through him.

“Yuugi!” Atemu shouted, panicked. He jumped to his feet as his head began to clear, the sounds and colors becoming sharper by the second. He lunged, trying to reach Yuugi, but Yasui was there again. “Get out of my way!” Atemu growled, trying to get around him.

“Look at him,” sneered Fujioka as Yasui shoved Atemu away, “he _still_ won't fight back.”

“Atemu,” Yuugi murmured from his spot on the ground. He looked up at Atemu from around Yasui, his expression pained and peeved. “What are you doing?” Yuugi breathed, “Fight back – that _really_ hurt.”

Atemu stilled then, hands curling into tight fists and shoulders loosening. He rolled them, wincing only slightly with his movement.

“As you wish,” Atemu said and he was instantly in Yasui's face, slamming his forehead into his chin with all of his might. Yasui jerked back, and Atemu went for Aizawa next, violet-red eyes seething as he kicked him in the groin. With a sharp cry of pain, Aizawa fell to his knees, holding himself tenderly, and Atemu whirled around, kicking him in the cheek with the heel of his boot. Aizawa went down and Atemu went after him, leaping upon him and grabbing him by his collar as he began to pound his face in, the rest of the world forgotten. He felt someone yank at the back of his collar, and Atemu blindly swung his arm behind him, striking hard. A pained grunt followed and he was let go. With that, Atemu hit Aizawa once, twice – five – twelve times and Atemu was losing count as blood poured from Aizawa's face, from his broken nose and split lip and missing teeth. Some of the blood was his own, Atemu knew. He felt it in the sting of his broken skin with every punch he landed, not giving a single fuck.

“Atemu!” Yuugi shouted, and Atemu paused, turning his head around to see Yuugi standing and watching him with wide eyes.

“What?” Atemu said, and Yuugi frowned worriedly, raising his hand tentatively, as though to reach out.

“It's over,” Yuugi said gently, “they're done.”

It was then that Atemu looked around, noting that they were not alone. Vivian stood a couple of meters away, hands on her hips and standing on an unconscious Yasui with her eyebrows raised in wary surprise. Next to Yuugi stood Anzu, looking alarmed and concerned.

“When did you two get here?” Atemu asked, fist still raised and poised to punch.

“Five minutes ago,” Vivian said. “That's an exaggeration, but it might as well be true.” She shrugged and waved at the unconscious bodies around her. “You're welcome, by the way.”

Atemu skimmed the teenagers littering the floor and he looked at Yuugi, who stood slightly disheveled, but otherwise unharmed. He felt embarrassed then. He had been so focused on making Aizawa pay for striking Yuugi that he had completely forgotten about the others.

“Thanks,” he muttered and he turned back to Aizawa, punching him once more for good measure before standing, hand moving to cradle the right side of his ribcage and ignoring the pain in his middle and forefinger as he shuffled to Yuugi. “You okay?” he asked, and Yuugi nodded, rubbing his cheek with a wince.

“Am _I_ okay?” Yuugi scoffed, looking Atemu over with care, “You're the one limping.”

“Yeah, I think I pulled something – but _forget me,”_ Atemu said, insisting, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Yuugi said, sighing. He delicately took Atemu's injured hand into his own, looking it over with a frown and letting go when Atemu winced. “Anzu and Vivian got here as soon as you went after that guy, so they didn't get me.” He glanced to Vivian then. “Vivian's a badass,” he whispered to Atemu, “don't make her angry.”

“Yo,” called Vivian and Atemu turned as she tossed a handkerchief at him. He caught it deftly with his free hand, confused. When he did nothing more, Vivian motioned to the general area of his face. “Clean up,” she said, “you're covered in blood and it's gross. No one wants to kiss that.”

Peeved, Atemu wiped at his face, rubbing the blood off haphazardly. He looked to Yuugi, pointing to his face questioningly, and Yuugi stepped forward, taking the cloth and gently wiping at the spots he missed. He smiled when he was done, and Atemu took the dirtied fabric back, letting his fingers linger over Yuugi's in a soft caress. Blushing, Yuugi lowered his gaze, attempting to hide his pleased smile. But Atemu was not blind and his heart skipped a beat in happiness. As he made to hand the handkerchief back to Vivian, however, she grimaced and shook her head. She stepped back, off of Yasui and away from him.

“Ew,” she said, face twisted with disgust, “keep it, throw it away, whatever. Just keep it away from me.”

“Atemu!!!”

The group turned then to see Jounouchi and Honda rush into the alley, stopping short as they registered the scene before them, their faces falling in shock.

“What the hell?” Jounouchi said.

“We were supposed to be the cavalry,” Honda said, sounding disappointed.

“Yuugi!” Jounouchi gasped, and Honda's eyes widened at the sight of him.

“You guys are late!” Anzu snapped, “Someone could have gotten _really_ hurt!”

“A _lot_ of people got hurt,” Vivian laughed, “only, _I_ did the hurting.” She smiled prettily then, both Honda and Jounouchi staring at her in disbelief.

 _“You_ did this?” Honda asked, baffled.

“Yep!” Vivian chirped.

“Well, to be fair,” Anzu said, “Atemu did _that one.”_ She pointed at the only bloody teen, and they turned to look, grimacing at the sight.

“A _girl_ saved you?” Honda snorted as he looked down at Atemu who shrugged.

“I'm not complaining,” Atemu said and he turned to Vivian, his brow creased. “I didn't know you could fight,” he said, eyes trailing over her, searching.

“I _did_ say I was full of hidden depths,” she said in annoyance, and Anzu laughed.

“Again, to be fair, Vivian,” she said, “you didn't exactly defend yourself against Atemu.”

“Yeah,” Vivian replied with a wistful sigh, “that was when I was still pretending to be frail and meek.”

“That was this morning, you know,” Anzu said with a smile, linking her arm with Vivian's, “I like you so much better now.”

“Everyone?” Yuugi said, “We should probably go before they wake up.”

“Let's call the cops first,” Anzu said, turning to look at him, “I'm not letting these creeps get away with ganging up on Atemu.”

“Don't bother,” Atemu said tightly, “I wasn't exactly an innocent here.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Anzu asked, and Atemu sighed.

“That he's the one who sent Ushio to the hospital a couple of days ago,” Honda said abruptly, “and his buddies were trying to get revenge.”

“Oh,” Vivian said, nodding, “so it's _your_ fault.” She gave Atemu a disapproving frown. “Because of you, Yuugi got his cute little face all roughed up.”

“Atemu?” Yuugi breathed, and when Atemu turned to look at him, he flinched at the shock in Yuugi's gaze, his heart filling with guilt and shame. Before he could say anything, or even think of an excuse, Honda stepped up and opened his mouth.

“See, Yuugi?” Honda said scathingly, his brow creased. They all turned to look at him, except for Atemu. Atemu only looked to Yuugi, his heart clenching in his chest with fear. “Your little boyfriend is a demon,” Honda spat. “He put a guy in the hospital!”

“No loss there,” Vivian spoke up with a shrug. “Ushio is a piece of shit.”

“I don't like speaking ill of anyone,” Anzu mumbled, “but I have to agree with Vivian. He was always taking money from kids.” She shook her head, sighing. “Now I feel kinda bad,” she muttered to Vivian who laughed and rolled her eyes before reaching out and patting Anzu's shoulder.

“It's okay,” Vivian said, “at least you can recognize the crappy people.”

“Okay,” Honda snapped, “what part of _homicidal maniac_ aren't you guys getting?” He pointed a finger at Atemu, eyes furious. “He put a guy in the hospital for no reason!”

“So did Bakura,” Jounouchi muttered under his breath, “but I guess he's not on trial here, so whatever.”

“That's a lie,” Atemu finally said, and Honda scoffed as he turned to glare at him.

“Bullshit,” Honda shouted, “they said –”

“I mean,” Atemu interrupted calmly, “that I did have reason.”

At that, Honda fell silent, but his face twisted with incredulity before looking around and motioning at him as though to say, _“Can you believe this guy?”_

Ignoring him, Atemu turned to look at Yuugi who was staring at the ground, his brow furrowed.

“I'm not trying to excuse myself,” Atemu said softly, and Yuugi raised his head, meeting his gaze with confusion. “I went after Ushio, yes,” Atemu admitted, “I hurt him, yes, but I didn't do it for fun.” He sighed, shoulders drooping. Carefully, he stepped forward, relieved when Yuugi did not move back. He merely stayed still, watching Atemu as he walked closer. He did not even flinch when Atemu raised his hand to his face. “This bruise,” Atemu said, lightly touching Yuugi's brow, “was no accident.”

“How did you –” Yuugi began to ask, when Atemu shook his head, silencing him.

“I overheard,” Atemu explained, “I went looking for answers because I didn't believe it was an accident, and I overheard Ushio telling his dumbass friends that he jumped you.” Unapologetic, Atemu shrugged. “So I took Melvin's bat and broke his arm.”

Yuugi's eyes widened and he gasped.

“The other day,” he said, “when you were talking to Melvin with –”

“Yes, Yuugi,” Atemu confirmed, “I stayed at school so I could corner Ushio after his practice was over.”

“Because of me,” Yuugi whispered, and Atemu nodded. Remorse crossed Yuugi's gaze and he dropped his gaze to the ground between them, a sigh leaving him. “Atemu, you shouldn't have done that,” Yuugi said, “it was –”

“Wrong,” Atemu finished for him, “I know.” His jaw clenched and he looked away. “I had to make him pay,” he continued quietly, “I couldn't let him get away with hurting you.”

“Atemu,” Yuugi said, raising his chin. He hesitated and sighed, shaking his head. “That doesn't make it okay.”

“This was before,” Atemu said as Yuugi looked to the side. Atemu shifted, desperately searching for Yuugi's gaze, but Yuugi would not look up. “Before I agreed not to fight anymore,” he said, “it was before you put your trust in me –”

“And that makes it okay?” Yuugi breathed. “Atemu,” he said, his brow scrunched, “just because you didn't _technically_ break a promise, doesn't mean you didn't do wrong. You hurt someone. You put them in a _hospital.”_ Finally, Yuugi looked at him, eyes tumultuous and disappointed.

“I did it for you,” Atemu mumbled, “he hurt you first” – he reached up to point at Yuugi's face – “he gave you that bruise, so I made sure he could never hurt you again.” Clenching his hand, Atemu dropped it to his side uselessly, his chest tight with panic. “Are you angry with me?” Atemu asked.

“...I'm disappointed,” Yuugi replied, “and upset.” His eyes trailed to Aizawa's prone body and he bit his lip. “Are you going to go after everyone who hurts me?” he questioned. “You can't keep doing this, hurting people. If this is how you're going to react...” He trailed off, and Atemu gulped dryly.

“You gave me permission to fight back,” Atemu said, “so I did – I went too far, I know, but, Yuugi” – he reached out, turning Yuugi's face to meet his eyes with a plea – “I'm _trying.”_

“I don't want any more people getting hurt,” Yuugi said, and Atemu shook his head.

“I won't hurt anyone else,” Atemu said, “I promised you and I've kept my promise – Ushio was before that. I followed through this time – I only fought back when you said.” He took Yuugi's hand into both of his own, wincing and shoving the pain in his fingers aside. As he looked at Yuugi, his violet-red eyes filled with heartfelt emotion. “Yuugi, I need you to believe in me.”

“Don't trust him!” Honda said, and Yuugi's head whipped around, eyes surprised as if he had forgotten they had an audience. “Yuugi,” Honda pleaded, “he's bad news, man!” Beside him, Jounouchi was watching in silence, his jaw clenched, brown eyes unsure.

“Seriously, give them some privacy!” Vivian hissed.

“Honda, stop being rude,” Anzu added, “Yuugi's not a moron – he can decide for himself!”

“Am I seriously the _only_ person here who can see how insane this is?” Honda asked incredulously. He looked to Yuugi, gaze fierce. “You said you'd doubt him if he gave you reason to,” Honda said lowly and he threw out an arm to point at Aizawa's unconscious body, “isn't this enough?”

“C'mon, man,” Jounouchi sighed, dropping his stance, “leave it alone. Anzu's right, Yuugi can make his own decisions.”

“This is such _bullshit,”_ Honda growled. He tried to turn away, but Jounouchi caught him by his arm. Before he could speak, however, Honda shoved him off. Turning on his heel, he stormed away, incensed.

“Honda!” Jounouchi called, but Honda did not turn back. Groaning softly, Jounouchi entangled his fingers into his blonde bangs, annoyed.

“Honda,” Yuugi murmured, his eyes on his departing friend's back. He took a step, about to run after him, only to be stopped by Atemu's voice.

“Yuugi?” Atemu said, trying to bring Yuugi's attention back to himself. He squeezed the hand he held, and Yuugi hesitated, watching Honda round the corner before he finally turned and met Atemu's eyes once more. “Could you give me a second chance?”

“Atemu,” Yuugi chewed the inside of his cheek, uncertain.

“I have a temper and I'm vengeful,” Atemu said, “but if you believe in me, I can get past it. I can be good.” He smiled, small and hopeful, and Yuugi closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

“I know you're trying,” Yuugi said carefully, “but –”

“Please, Yuugi?” Atemu said hopefully, and Yuugi groaned softly, looking away.

“I can't say no to your face,” Yuugi muttered reluctantly, “how is that _fair?”_

“So … you'll give me another chance?” Atemu asked tentatively, and Yuugi nodded, shoulders sagging.

“Yeah,” he said, “but if you hurt another person” – he pointed a finger at Atemu sternly – “that's it, I'm breaking up with you.” He dropped his hand, and Atemu grinned, relieved. Abruptly, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Yuugi's cheek, ignoring the sting in his lip as he delighted in the way a blush spread on Yuugi's face like wildfire. “Atemu!” Yuugi complained, and Atemu cleared his throat, shrugging his shoulders innocently.

“It was on the cheek,” Atemu defended, and Yuugi stared at him, unamused.

“Time and place,” Yuugi said stiffly, “not it.” He flushed a deeper red when Anzu's giggles reached his ears. Refusing to turn and further mortify himself, Yuugi cleared his throat and shook his head. “Atemu,” he said, and Atemu's smile slipped away when he saw the seriousness in Yuugi's face, “I mean it. Don't hurt anyone else.”

“I won't,” Atemu promised.

* * *

It was quite late as Atemu walked Yuugi home. Jounouchi had insisted on walking the girls, Vivian laughing the whole way while loudly proclaiming Jounouchi a hero. Meanwhile, Atemu and Yuugi were quiet, and Yuugi could not help but continue glancing at him every time they passed under a street lamp. The light illuminated Atemu's wounds starkly, making them seem even more grotesque than they actually were. The group of delinquents had certainly done a number on Atemu's face. It was swollen, bleeding, and bruised. Yuugi would not even be surprised if Atemu's nose was broken or his jaw fractured. The thought turned his stomach and he frowned at the ground he trod over. He looked up again just as they walked under another street lamp, and like before, a breath was pulled from Yuugi's lungs.

“Does it hurt?” Yuugi asked quietly. “It looks really bad,” he said, motioning at Atemu's face, “and your lip is bleeding again.” Atemu glanced at him and shrugged nonchalantly, using Vivian's handkerchief to wipe at the blood from his split lip. He had tried to return it, but Vivian had refused on the account of it being “the grossest thing that had ever been given to her”.

“It's not bad,” Atemu said, and Yuugi stared at him in great surprise. He elaborated with a sigh. “It could have been worse,” Atemu said in consideration, “I dodged most of it.”

“You _dodged_ most of it,” Yuugi echoed disbelievingly. He shook his head, sighing, and let his gaze fall to their path in thought. “The more I think about it,” he said, “the more I wonder if you're crazy for letting those guys beat you up!”

“You told me not to fight,” Atemu said, baffled.

“I didn't mean it like that,” Yuugi protested. “I mean, you _shouldn't_ fight,” he said, “there's always a better way to resolve things.” He paused, noting that the game shop was only a couple meters away. Atemu stopped with him, turning to face him. “If someone's jumping you,” Yuugi said, “just run away! But if you can't, it's okay to defend yourself!”

“Running away isn't in my vocabulary,” Atemu said, “I don't _run.”_ When he saw Yuugi's disappointed grimace, he tried a different tactic. “So what you're saying is,” Atemu said, “that I shouldn't go looking for fights, but if one finds me, you won't be mad if I defend myself?”

“Yes,” Yuugi said, and Atemu nodded.

“I wish I'd known that before,” Atemu said with a grimace, and Yuugi frowned at him.

“It was implied,” he mumbled.

“So, since this is partly your fault,” Atemu suddenly said with a sly grin that made Yuugi's heart skip a beat, “I feel like maybe you could make it up to me … with a kiss?”

A furious blush spread across Yuugi's cheeks and he looked away in embarrassment.

“Atemu you're _injured,”_ Yuugi whispered.

“And it'll hurt less with a kiss,” Atemu said, refusing to back down.

“It really was implied,” Yuugi groaned, and Atemu took his chin, turning his face. When Yuugi met his eyes, he noted that Atemu's teasing smile had faded into something soft that made Yuugi's stomach flip.

“Alright,” Atemu said quietly, “then kiss me because you want to.”

And Yuugi _did_ want to. Looking up at Atemu, bruised and swollen, Yuugi did not like him any less. Though Vivian had expressed disgust at the sight of Atemu, Yuugi's insides still squirmed and his heart still fluttered with delight. He was absolutely smitten with Atemu and Yuugi could not deny it. Stomach writhing with butterflies, Yuugi moved forward, heart racing in his chest. His blush deepened as he moved up onto his tiptoes, placing his hands on Atemu's shoulders to keep his balance. He leaned, and Atemu gladly met him halfway, dipping his head down and gently pressing their lips together.

Instantly, Yuugi wanted more. He wanted to take Atemu's face and kiss him until his lips went numb. But Atemu's flinch made him pull away at once, and Yuugi took a breath, clearing his head of the thought. Looking up at Atemu, he cleared his throat. Tonight was not a good time to engage in such an activity. Atemu was injured and Yuugi did not want to hurt him any more than he was. However, as he met Atemu's eyes, Yuugi saw his own disappointment reflected back at him. Atemu sighed wistfully, reaching up to touch tentatively at his cut.

“I got blood on you,” Atemu muttered and he wiped at Yuugi's mouth with a clean spot on Vivian's handkerchief. “Sorry,” he said with a wince.

“That's okay,” Yuugi said, and he took the cloth, tenderly cleaning Atemu's own lip. He looked at the cloth then, his brow furrowing. “I should wash this,” Yuugi said, “and return it to Vivian –”

“I'll do it,” Atemu said suddenly, taking it from Yuugi's hand, “it's my blood anyway.” He stared at it, his brow furrowed.

“Okay,” Yuugi said, confused before he shrugged it off. He looked at the game shop and back to Atemu. “Come inside,” Yuugi said, pointing with a tilt of his head at the game shop, “I'll bandage you up.”

“Actually,” Atemu said, casting a wary glance at the shop, “I think it's better if your family didn't see me like this.”

“You're right,” Yuugi said with a reluctant sigh, “they'd flip, but will you be okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Atemu nodded, smiling, “Melvin's got a first aid kit at his place. I'll patch myself up when I get there.”

“Melvin's place?” Yuugi said, “You're sleeping over? That sounds like fun.”

“Uh, yeah,” Atemu said, still smiling.

“You sure you can't come inside?” Yuugi asked, and Atemu nodded profusely.

“I'll be okay,” Atemu said, “you go on. I'll see you tomorrow.” He reached out a hand, brushing Yuugi's bangs from his face and running the print of his thumb over Yuugi's cheekbone. “Promise.”

“Alright,” Yuugi said, blushing, but Atemu could tell by the hesitant way Yuugi glanced at the shop that he did not want to leave. He gave Yuugi a gentle nudge and Yuugi grimaced at him before he started walking. When he got to the door, he turned, waving. “Goodnight,” Yuugi said.

“Goodnight,” Atemu called back, stomach twisting when Yuugi smiled.

* * *

Once inside, Yuugi locked the door behind him and crossed the dark shop, past the counter and into his home. He tiredly kicked off his shoes and made his way to the kitchen where his mother was sitting at the table, a pamphlet in hand. Yuugi approached, ready to call out a greeting, when he saw the title of the pamphlet.

 

**HIV and AIDS: A guide to safe sex**

 

Yuugi stopped cold.

“Oh, my god,” he whispered, and his mother jumped, startled by the sound of his voice. Lowering the pamphlet, she met his gaze and smiled.

“Yuugi!” she said excitedly before she noticed the new bruise on his cheek and her expression turned shocked. “What happened to you?” she asked, standing from the table and reaching for his face, but Yuugi shook his head, brushing her concern aside.

“Nothing, mom,” he said reassuringly, “I'm okay.” But when her gaze continued to look worried, he smiled at her. “Mom, trust me, I'm fine. It was an accident.”

“You swear?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I swear,” Yuugi said, and Ashita sighed, relieved. She reached out, touching his cheek tenderly.

“Are you really sure?” she asked again, and Yuugi nodded firmly. His mother looked extremely reluctant, but she finally deflated and leaned in. Pressing a tender kiss to his cheek, she sighed.

“I'm glad you're okay,” she said. “I just want you to know I'm here for you, Yuugi. You can tell me anything, okay? Now put some ice on that cheek.”

“Thanks, mom,” Yuugi said sincerely, moving past her to the fridge where he pulled an ice pack his mother usually used for headaches. Placing it to his cheek, he looked back at the pamphlet, his gut churning. “What is that?”

“Oh, I got you something!” his mother said brightly, brandishing the pamphlet like a cheerleader's pompom, a glorious weapon of cheer. Yuugi stared at it, horrified by the cartoon images of both clothed and naked men on the cover.

“Mom, no,” Yuugi said, and his mother pressed the pamphlet into Yuugi's trembling hands.

“I've already read through it,” she said, “it's got plenty of information on how to have safe gay sex and also what kind of diseases –”

“Mom, oh no, please stop,” Yuugi begged, his cheeks burning red with mortification, “are you serious?”

“Sweetie,” Ashita reprimanded, “I want you to be safe!” She looked at him imploringly before she turned and grabbed a bag with a pharmacy label on it. Opening it, she turned and pulled out a box of condoms and a bottle of lube, presenting them to Yuugi with a smile. “You'll need these!” she said cheerfully and pressed them into Yuugi's hold, smiling expectantly.

“Oh, my god, mom,” Yuugi groaned. Immediately, he shoved the things back into his mother's hands before turning on his heel and jetting out of the kitchen as fast as he could. His mother followed anxiously.

“You can't get pregnant, but you can get a disease!” she said.

 _No, no, no,_ Yuugi thought, humiliated, _don't say another word!_

But as he climbed the stairs, his mother called out to him urgently.

“I'm just looking out for you!” she yelled after him, “Even gay people need to have safe sex!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While things with Atemu seem to be going well, it looks like Yuugi inadvertently created a divide between himself and his old friend.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Stay tuned for the [YGOME16](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/YGOME16) reveal! My work, _The Things You Couldn't Say_ , will be posted among the fics!


	23. Melvin'd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melvin has absolutely no regrets. He is himself and anyone who doesn't like it can suck it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Welcome to an all-new chapter! The title “Melvin'd” is used [with permission from Martin Billany (aka Little Kuriboh)!](https://mobile.twitter.com/uglybuffet/status/767254686705463297) I hope you enjoy one of my favorite chapters!

Shoppers buzzed around the plaza, talking, laughing, and having a good time. Silently, the Ishtar brothers crossed the square, on their way home from their get-together. Malik had his phone in hand, earphones plugged in and music playing, completely unaware of his surroundings. Occasionally, Melvin grabbed his elbow and tugged him out of someone's way, but they did not speak to each other and Malik never acknowledged Melvin's help. They continued on until they reached their home, a rectangular two story building squeezed between two others. Melvin unlocked the door and Malik pulled out his ear buds, tucking his phone away and following his older brother inside.

They removed their shoes, fitting them into a wire rack where four pairs of slippers waited, two lilac-purple, one ocean-blue, and the last pair a dull grey. Melvin tucked his besocked feet into the grey pair and took a step in direction of his room before he paused.

“You didn't have to do that,” Melvin said quietly, and Malik interrupted his movements, lifting his head only to be met with Melvin's back. “It's fine with me that they didn't believe me.”

“I just felt like sharing,” Malik said indifferently, dropping his gaze and retrieving his own pair of purple slippers, “it wasn't about you.” He heard the shuffle of Melvin's slippers on the vinyl tiles, and when he looked, Melvin was already going up the stairs. Grimacing to himself, Malik took out his phone, pulling up a chain of messages under the contact name of “Fluffy”. The last text was from himself, sent two days ago.

 

**To _Fluffy_ :**

**r u still mad????**

 

There was no reply.

For a moment, Malik stared at the screen, his finger poised over the keyboard. Huffing, he turned off the screen and made his way upstairs to Melvin's bedroom. He looked in through the open door, spying Melvin by his desk. He had already changed out of his blue uniform pants into long shorts and was pulling on a white t-shirt. When he finished changing, he settled into the chair at his desk and picked up a plain, blue-bound book, flipping through it. His room was neat, free of garbage, clothes, and disorder. On Melvin's walls, there were picture frames. Many sported two older faces, a woman and a man, both copper-skinned. The woman had blue eyes and long, dark hair. The man was bald but for a ponytail at the back of his head, his eyes a deep green.

Entering Melvin's room without permission, Malik collapsed onto his bed with a huff. Staring at the ceiling, he said, “They all think you're crazy.”

“Let them,” Melvin muttered from his chair, “it doesn't matter.”

“Your best friend is our cousin,” Malik continued, and Melvin turned a page, uncaring.

“I'm going to swing you upside down until you pass out if you keep bringing this up,” Melvin said, and Malik's eyes darted to his brother who continued to calmly flip through his book. Malik gulped dryly and sat up. “I'm not like you,” Melvin said, “I don't give a shit what other people think of me.”

“Fine,” Malik said, standing and sweeping from the room, “whatever.”

He entered his own room then, the complete opposite of Melvin's. Where Melvin had floor, Malik had clothes to tread on, and where Melvin had picture frames, Malik had posters of his favorite bands and singers. As he made to close the door, he heard Melvin's phone ring. The sound of a chainsaw revving its motor filled the air, Melvin's new choice of ringtone, and Malik simply nudged the door halfway shut before he moved over to his unmade bed. Throwing himself down, he pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, his eyes going up to the last message he had received from “Fluffy”.

 

**From _Fluffy_ :**

**Chupakbras s myth. Dn't wrry.**

 

The phone stopped ringing and Malik lifted his gaze, listening for a moment as Melvin's voice resonated in a smooth hum through the quiet home. Looking back to the phone, he sighed and began to type out a message.

 

**To _Fluffy_ :**

**K, i'm dun wit ur tantrum. Talk 2 me**

 

He stared at it, finger poised over the send button.

“Malik!” called Melvin. “Ishizu wants to talk to you.”

Lips twisting at the message, Malik hummed thoughtfully and set his phone aside on the bed beside him. He sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the mattress as he went before glancing at the bedside table where a single picture frame stood. He gazed at it for a second, his eyes lingering on the woman and man in it. Melvin and he, several years younger, were standing between them as they all smiled at the camera outside their new home, dressed in full body sand-colored robes and faces thin. The picture, he recalled, had been taken by his aunt the day they arrived in Japan from Egypt. Looking away, Malik left his room. He entered Melvin's once more to find Melvin holding out the phone with his attention back on his book. Taking the phone, Malik put it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

 _“Hey, Malik,”_ said a smooth feminine voice, _“how are you?”_

“I'm good, Ishizu,” Malik said, “you?”

 _“Good as can be,”_ she said lightly. _“How are you doing in school? Getting enough sleep? You better not be staying up late.”_

“I'm not, I'm sleeping fine,” Malik whined, “and I'm doing the same in school.”

 _“Liar,”_ Ishizu scoffed.

“I told her you're failing math,” Melvin input, and Malik glared at him, even though Melvin could not see it.

“When are you coming home?” Malik evaded, and Ishizu sighed.

 _“Just a while longer,”_ she said tiredly, _“they don't want to make it easy. They keep saying they have no record of – never mind.”_ She cleared her throat. _“We'll be home soon and Rishid will be coming with me as our brother like he's been all these years, except legally.”_ She laughed. _“Don't worry.”_

“I'm not worried,” Malik admitted, “I know you'll work your magic.”

 _“Ah,”_ Ishizu said, _“good … so how's Melvin?”_

“Fine,” Malik muttered.

 _“You're sure?”_ Ishizu said hesitantly.

“All good here,” Malik insisted, and Melvin shifted in his chair, chin rising slightly. His eyes had stopped moving across the page.

 _“Is he sleeping well?”_ Ishizu asked, and Malik stepped out of the room, moving slightly down the hall and lowering his voice.

“He hasn't been waking me up with his obsessive cleaning, if that's what you're asking,” Malik said pointedly, and Ishizu sighed.

 _“Well, that's good,”_ she said, and Malik did not respond. _“And how are your friends? Ryou and Touzoku Bakura –”_

“Melvin wants to talk to you,” Malik said, making his way back into the room, “love you, sis. Say hi to Rishid for me. Bye.” And before Ishizu could say anything else, Malik had pressed the phone back into Melvin's hand and rushed back to his own room. Closing the door, he went to his bed and curled up on it with a sigh. Something dug into his side and he winced, grunting in pain. He moved in discomfort and pulled his phone out from beneath him. Unlocking the screen, he stared at the message he had not yet sent.

He deleted it.

* * *

_“What happened to Malik?”_ Ishizu asked, confused.

“You probably pissed him off,” Melvin said lightly.

 _“All I did was ask about Ryou and Touzoku Bakura,”_ she said indignantly, _“I thought they were friends. I just wanted to know how they were doing, what with that absent father of theirs.”_

“Ryou and Malik _are_ friends, Touzoku is history,” Melvin said, a tone of smugness entering his voice, “they got in a fight and aren't speaking anymore.”

 _“Do you have to sound so gleeful?”_ Ishizu reprimanded, and Melvin sighed.

“No,” he said with a smile, “it just comes naturally.”

 _“You're looking after him, right?”_ Ishizu asked carefully. _“You're taking care of Malik?”_

“Of course,” Melvin said, “what did you expect me to do? Stab him?”

 _“That's not funny,”_ Ishizu said softly.

“I'm not Akhenaden,” Melvin bit out, “you know that. Or else you wouldn't have left him here with me.”

 _“I would never think that of you,”_ Ishizu said firmly. _“You're_ nothing _like our father.”_

“Okay,” Melvin said indifferently.

 _“You know I love you, right?”_ Ishizu said quietly. _“Because I do love you, little brother.”_

“I know,” Melvin said, setting down his book. “Come home soon, Ishizu. I almost set fire to the school yesterday because I missed you so much.”

 _“That is not funny,”_ Ishizu said stiffly, _“and don't think I didn't already hear this from Aunt Adira – what were you thinking!”_

“It was an accident,” Melvin said calmly. “The hot plate wasn't working, so I tried to fix it … with chemicals.”

 _“You could have just asked for a new one,”_ Ishizu reprimanded, _“instead of doing something so foolhardy and dangerous!”_

“Because if something doesn't work it's better to throw it away, right?” Melvin mumbled.

 _“I didn't hear that,”_ Ishizu said, _“speak up.”_

“Nothing, sis,” Melvin said brightly, “I won't do it again. Don't worry.”

 _“Well, good,”_ Ishizu said. _“I'd hate for you to get hurt over something so thoughtless.”_ She sighed, relieved. _“We're almost done over here. Rishid will have his papers fixed and then we'll be home. Then I'm grounding you for that little stunt, so enjoy your freedom while you have it.”_

“I'll go out and get a tattoo right this instant,” Melvin said idly.

 _“Okay, good,”_ she said briskly, obviously not listening, _“I have to go, take care of Malik and eat well. I deposited some money into your account, so buy some groceries –_ healthy food, _got it? If you need anything, just ask Aunt Adira. I love you”_ – Melvin could hear a male voice speak up in the background – _“and Rishid sends his love too. With lots of hugs. Tell Malik we love him too, and make sure to give him a big wet kiss for us.”_

“The biggest,” Melvin confirmed with a mischievous grin, “love you both. Bye.” The call ended and he pulled the phone from his ear, unlocking the screen to check his notifications. A single message waited for him from Bakura.

 

**From _Florence_ :**

**need 2 gtfo. Hlp me.**

 

After a moment of thought, Melvin sent a reply.

 

**To Florence:**

**ask your bestie Atemu.**

 

He tapped away from the message, going to another chain. He quickly looked around for Malik, but his little brother was nowhere to be seen. Relaxing, he turned his attention back to his phone and slowly formed a message.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**thanks, but honestly who cares what**  
**those idiots think**

 

After sending it, Melvin tilted his head to the side in consideration and formed another text.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**you're good at english, right. could**  
**use some help**

 

Melvin heard a creak and his head whipped around, quickly turning off the screen and setting his phone on the desk. But when he looked, he saw no one there and he frowned. Slowly, he got up from his chair and went to his door, peering out.

“Malik?” he called warily.

“What,” Malik shouted from his room, and Melvin relaxed.

“Do your homework,” he replied, and a loud groan was all he heard in reply. With a smirk, he retreated into his room and returned to his desk. Picking up his phone, he unlocked the screen, noting the new message.

 

**From _Long-Ears_ :**

**Sorry, I can't help today, but I can come**  
**over tomorrow if that's okay?**

 

Melvin typed out a reply, hesitant as he read through it.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**fine.**

 

Frowning, Melvin stared at the message. He quickly attached a happy face to the end of it and contemplated his text a moment more. Reaching up a hand, he scratched at the back of his head, adding three more smiling faces before he finally pressed the send button. He waited, a grimace to his lips as he regretted two of those four emoticons. But not two minutes later, he received a reply.

 

**From _Long-Ears_ :**

**Ok then! I'll see you tomorrow after**  
**school. :DDDD ;D**

 

Content, Melvin reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet where he had written his assignments. Grabbing the appropriate books from the pile on his desk, he opened the first and started in on his homework. 

* * *

It was late when Melvin and Malik had dinner, rice with baked mackerel for Melvin and roasted eggplant for Malik. A second fillet of fish sat in the oven, keeping warm. Melvin lifted his face to Malik.

“Finish your homework?” Melvin asked.

“Of course, _big sister,”_ Malik said sarcastically, and Melvin gave him a droll glance.

“I can still give you that kiss Ishizu told me to give you,” Melvin said with a smile, and Malik shuddered, face twisting in disgust.

“Ew,” Malik said, and Melvin blew him a kiss from across the table. Annoyed, Malik stood, ready to escape to his bedroom. “I'm going to bed –”

“Your turn to do the dishes,” Melvin said, and Malik huffed.

“Hell no,” Malik said, and Melvin rolled his eyes.

“Malik –”

“I don't like doing dishes!” Malik complained. “The soap dries out my hands and makes them feel all gross!”

Before Melvin could make Malik do the dishes, a knock came at the door and Melvin frowned. He pointed a threatening finger at Malik, signaling him to stay put. Malik stared at him, mouth twisted in annoyance, and Melvin stood, making his way to the door and opening it. Just outside stood Atemu, looking beat up and weary. The area around his left eye was swollen and red at the edges. His forehead was bleeding from a blow, his bottom lip was split, and his right cheek was scraped, reddened, and swollen as well. His uniform jacket was ripped and dirty, his pants no better off. He stood stiltedly, hunched slightly to the side as he leaned a hand on the wall beside the door. All in all, Atemu appeared to have taken a tumble down the side of a mountain and miraculously survived.

“Yo,” said Atemu, sounding for all the world as though he had not fought a lion and _lost._ Melvin stared at him, expression unconcerned as he inspected Atemu's injuries.

“Yo,” he replied, looking Atemu up and down, “do I need to call Bakura?”

“They're taken care of,” Atemu murmured in answer as he carelessly kicked off his boots, brushing past Melvin and heading for the couch. He pulled off his school jacket as he went, a pained grunt leaving him as his sore and bruised muscles stretched unforgivingly.

“Are you sure?” Melvin asked warily, watching Atemu climb onto the couch with a winded groan. “The hell happened?”

“Don't ask,” Atemu sighed, his voice low and tired. “Know how to clean a handkerchief? Said I would, but got no idea how. Just didn't want her near my Yuugi.” He grunted again as he shifted, his voice lowering even more. “I miss my maids.”

Grimacing, Melvin locked the front door, nudging Atemu's boots over to the rack and out of the way.

“Need ice for that hand?” Melvin said, and he turned when he did not receive a reply. He made his way to his cousin, only to find that Atemu had already fallen asleep, his injured hand on his chest. Atemu's fingers were swollen and bloody. It looked as if his cousin had pummeled something with all his might. With a raised eyebrow, Melvin grabbed the blanket draped across the back of the couch. He haphazardly spread it over Atemu and left him. But when he turned to the kitchen to address Malik once more, he noted with a roll of his eyes that Malik was nowhere to be seen.

“Brat,” he grumbled. Silently, he retrieved the ice pack he kept handy in the fridge, grabbing a dish towel as he went. Wrapping the cloth around the pack, Melvin returned to Atemu, placing the pack gently on his hand. Atemu emitted a pained grunt, but did not wake, and Melvin left, making his way to the table to clean up. He put away the food, washed the dishes, and wiped down the table. Afterward, he swept the floor, mopped, and finally dug out the first aid kit from the bathroom, leaving it on Atemu's stomach. Atemu grunted again, but still did not wake, and Melvin retreated upstairs after making sure the house was locked and secure.

He made his way to Malik's room first. When he entered, he scanned the messy room, taking in Malik's sleeping and still-clothed form on the bed. Malik had fallen asleep on his stomach with a laptop turned on beside him, music playing softly. Melvin waded over through Malik's sea of clothes, and after checking for important unsaved files, he closed the laptop, setting it on Malik's cluttered desk. He then pulled the covers over Malik and picked up the clothes on the floor, creating a pile on Malik's desk chair. Scanning the room one last time, Melvin retreated to his own and grabbed his towel before heading for the family bathroom. He quickly showered and returned to his bedroom where he finally crawled into bed with a heavy sigh. Ready to sleep, he grabbed his phone and looked up the conversation with “Long-Ears”. He stared at the chain of messages, less than fifty in all. They were all similarly businesslike and short until recently when Long-Ears had messaged him at four in the morning a day ago.

 

 _Starting awake, Melvin looked around, tense as_ he searched for the source that had woken him. His eyes scoured the dimly lit room, wide until they fell onto his phone. It was lit up. He briefly glanced at the alarm clock, frowning at the time. Sighing, Melvin laid back down, preparing to ignore whoever it was harassing him at three in the morning. He did not care if Atemu needed a place to crash, or if Bakura needed backup – Melvin was not moving for anything. He was going back to sleep and the rest of the world could kiss his ass for all he cared. But as time slipped by, Melvin grew more frustrated with the fact that he could not sleep. Groaning, he sat up and looked at the blinking light from his phone, angry at whoever had disturbed his slumber. Grabbing the device, he unlocked it and frowned, disbelief entering his system. Confused, he clicked through to the message, reading carefully.

 

 **From** **_Long-Ears_ :**

**Can I ask you something?**

 

Unsure, Melvin took several seconds to form a reply, slowly typing and erasing his words immediately afterwards. Irritated when nothing natural came to him, he put one word and hit send.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**what**

 

Melvin regretted his reply then, grimacing as he laid back down. His text was almost an hour late and Melvin doubted a reply would even come. He stared at his phone, eyebrows rising as a new text slid into view.

 

**From _Long-Ears_ :**

**Never mind.**

 

Frowning, he sent a quick response.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**i'm already awake**

 

The reply, again, was fast in coming.

 

**From _Long-Ears_ :**

**I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to ask**  
**without being made fun of or judged.**

 

Curiosity and bafflement picking at him, Melvin sent his text, dubiety adamant.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**and you chose me**

 

He quickly sent another message.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**just ask your brother.**

 

But the sender was not in any mood to be trifled with, as was apparent with the next text.

 

**From _Long-Ears_ :**

**I just said I didn't want to be made fun  
** **of. Do you want to know what's  
** **bothering me or go back to sleep?**

 

Knowing he would not be sleeping anytime soon, if at all, Melvin continued the conversation. It did not hurt that he was definitely enjoying the thought of being the secret squirrel, hoarding a metaphorical acorn in his cheek.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**tell**

 

It was then that Long-Ears expressed his problem, an issue with sexuality that Melvin did not know how to answer. He settled for basics.

 

**To _Long-Ears_ :**

**like what you want, that shit don't**  
**matter**

-

**From _Long-Ears_ :**

**It matters to me. I feel like there's**  
**something wrong with me.**

 

Staring at his phone, Melvin did not reply. _He did not know how to answer that. But he could relate, and he would do what he could to get Long-Ears an answer._

 

And he had. Melvin had found what Long-Ears needed. He had expected things to go back to how they used to be after the fact, but a wide divide between him and Long-Ears was something that did not really appeal to him anymore. Ryou Bakura was not so bad for being Bakura's little brother, something Melvin had never really considered before. Turning off the screen, he sighed, setting his charging phone aside. After an hour more of lying awake, keeping his mind carefully blank, Melvin slipped into sleep. 

* * *

Only a few hours later, Atemu was startled awake by a crash and a clatter. Leaping up, Atemu lifted his arms, fists curled and waving around, ready to fight. After a moment, Atemu realized he was alone and the pain from his ribs and fingers brought him sharply to the present. He braced an arm against his side, wincing and grunting as he reached back and switched on the lamp sitting on the side table. With bleary violet-red eyes, he looked around, confused and wary until his eyes fell upon the first aid kit lying on the floor, open and its insides spilled about. On his lap, was a warmed ice pack. He sighed.

“Dammit, Melvin,” Atemu groaned, shoving the blanket off and maneuvering himself onto the floor to pick up the mess. He struggled, his side aching like his ribs were splintering in half. Eventually, he gathered it all, one-handed, and dumped the first aid kit onto the side table, nearly knocking the lamp over in his haste to lay back down. Only then did he breathe, but it was shallow, shaky and hard, his head spinning. “Shit,” he muttered, uninjured hand pressed tentatively against his rib. He laid there, drowsy and achy as he gathered his wits, listening to the sounds of Malik's loud snores echoing along the hall and down the stairs. After a long moment, he stood, grimacing at the gross gritty feeling of his body, and made the reluctant decision to bathe. So with considerable effort, Atemu made his way to Melvin's bedroom where he had left his stuff.

However, right before entering the room, he paused at the pained, whimpering sounds coming from within. Concerned, Atemu entered, guided by the night light plugged into the wall. He relaxed then when he saw Melvin was alone and asleep. But all was not alright. Melvin was tossing restlessly, frantic and frightened. Grimacing, Atemu walked over, careful to keep his distance as he reached over, shaking Melvin vigorously until he woke, arms swinging. Atemu darted out of his reach, bumping into the nightstand and cursing when the corner stabbed into him. Melvin sat up, panting, and Atemu rubbed at his hip, pulling a pained face.

 _“Every_ fucking time,” he bitched in annoyance.

“What,” Melvin grumbled thickly.

“You were having a bad dream again,” Atemu huffed, still rubbing his side as he turned away, moving over to the closet where Melvin had placed his belongings.

“Okay,” Melvin said, and Atemu heard him lie back down with a sigh. As Atemu gathered his things, he heard Melvin grunt. “Time?”

“Like four, probably, I don't know,” Atemu said, and Melvin sighed again. “Feels like four.” He glanced at the alarm clock. “Almost four. Sorry for waking you –”

“It's fine,” Melvin said dismissively, “five hours is enough sleep for me and you saved me from the singing eggplants.” When Atemu turned around, clothes in hand, Melvin sat back up, covers slipping down to his bare lap. “You gonna shower?”

“Yeah,” Atemu said, averting his eyes with a grimace, “don't you have pajamas?”

“My room, my nakedness,” Melvin said unapologetically, and Atemu rolled his eyes as he left, ready to get his shower over with so he could rest his hurting body. “Hungry?” Melvin called.

“Somewhat,” Atemu answered back, realizing then that he had not had dinner. His stomach certainly remembered as it growled, loud and begging. Melvin laughed, and Atemu walked down the hall to the bathroom, entering and locking the door behind him.

* * *

After a painful shower with tepid water, Atemu left the bathroom, wearing soft, blue pajama pants and a large, green shirt. His body ached, his fingers smarted, and his ribs throbbed even more than before. Carefully, he made his way downstairs, frowning when he noticed the kitchen light was on. Quietly, he entered the kitchen to see Melvin sitting at the table, thankfully dressed in a stone-grey t-shirt and denim jeans, a fillet of fish and a bowl of rice waiting across from him. Stomach growling, Atemu walked over and sat gingerly, picking up his chopsticks with his non-dominant hand to begin eating.

“I guess side dishes were Rishid's thing then?” Atemu commented with a gloomy look at his food.

On the other side of the table, Melvin eyed him.

“So are you going to come willingly or do I have to drag you to the hospital?” Melvin asked idly, and Atemu raised his eyes to him, frowning.

“I'm fine,” he muttered, and Melvin scoffed.

“Please,” Melvin said, “you look even worse than when you got home.” He motioned to where Atemu was holding his side and raised his eyebrows. “Ribs hurting?”

Stubbornly, Atemu pulled his hand away, lifting it to lay on the table. However, he instantly regretted the movement and winced, dropping his hand back and trying to breathe through the pain. But even breathing was a difficult task, as every breath was painful and unsatisfyingly short.

“Hospital?” Melvin asked again, and Atemu grunted, focusing on his food as he struggled to maneuver his chopsticks correctly.

“No,” he said firmly, “they'll call my mom.”

“How terrible for you,” Melvin sneered. “We're going.”

“Or what?” Atemu retorted.

“If your ribs aren't broken now,” Melvin said, “they will be once we get to the hospital.”

“Can you just let me eat in peace?” Atemu growled out, irritated.

“Go ahead,” Melvin said generously, “good luck being left-handed.” Then he leaned back in his chair, eyes moving to gaze at the ceiling.

“I'm not going to the damn hospital,” Atemu said resolutely, and Melvin did not respond. Instead he waited, lowering his gaze to watch as Atemu finished his meal. It only took fifteen minutes before Atemu stood from the table and pushed in his chair. But before he had a chance to move away, Melvin kicked the chair out, nailing Atemu in the ribs. With barely a sound, Atemu went down like a sack of potatoes. He moaned in pain before he suddenly retched, spewing the food he had just eaten out onto the tiles, Melvin only watched and smirked.

“Thought you said it didn't hurt,” Melvin said idly, and Atemu cursed colorfully, hoarse and winded.

“What the hell, Melvin,” he breathed through gritted teeth, curled up on the floor and holding his ribs in agony, “you fucking asshole. I think I actually blacked out for a second there.”

“You're _going_ to the hospital,” Melvin said, and Atemu understood there would be no other choice.

“Fine,” Atemu sighed out, ceding the argument in defeat.

“Very good,” Melvin said cheerfully, and Atemu cursed him several times more.

* * *

“Just some fractures,” Atemu bit out two hours later, when he was finally deemed out of danger by the doctor on ER duty. He sighed as he waited on one of the beds, still in his pajamas and watching as doctors and nurses rushed around. There was an ice pack in his uninjured hand and he held it gently against his ribs, the other set and splinted. His face had been tended to as well, gauze taped over his cuts and scrapes, small butterfly stitches holding his split lip together. Beside him Melvin sat, waiting with his earphones in and music blasting. Then Melvin pulled out the buds from his ears and Atemu could hear the opera, _Carmen_ , blasting from the tiny speakers. Melvin raised an eyebrow in question and Atemu glowered at him. “Just a few fractures,” he snapped, and Melvin grinned at him.

“Now don't you feel better for knowing that you're not bleeding internally?” Melvin asked him, and Atemu only glared.

“No,” Atemu said stubbornly, and Melvin laughed. “This was a waste of time,” he continued to moan, “all I need is painkillers and bed rest. I could have fixed my fingers myself. What a fucking waste –”

Abruptly, Atemu saw her out of the corner of his eye and he shut his mouth, silenced by the arrival of his mother. She walked up to them, her pace quick, eyes searching, and Atemu looked at Adira, his expression vacant of emotion as she paused at the end of his bed. She was dressed in coal-black slacks, a soft rose-pink blouse with a matching black blazer over it, and an onyx tote clutched in her hand. Her makeup was perfect as always, but her bobbed haircut lacked its usual bounce. Holding her purse before her with white-knuckled hands, she spoke.

“Atemu,” she said, “my son.”

Atemu did not reply, his mouth cemented shut with reluctance. Melvin glanced over his shoulder and waved in greeting before stuffing his buds back in. Slowly, Atemu shifted, moving his ice pack closer to his ribs. He studied his mother, jaw twitching. She was standing, staring at him with a furrowed brow. Her eyes raked over him, relief in her violet-red gaze, and Atemu looked away.

“What on earth happened to you?” Adira asked softly. She moved forward, a hand coming away from her tote to reach out for him, cupped as though she would tenderly hold his face. But Atemu twisted away, and she stopped. Dropping her hand, she shifted her weight on her heels and sighed. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Atemu answered shortly. He dropped his gaze to the white tiles, shrugging. “Nothing to worry about. Let's just get this over with – you have work.”

“Work can wait,” she said.

“Since when?” Atemu snorted, and she frowned at him.

“Who did this to you?” she asked instead of answering his sarcastic bite, and he shrugged again.

“Maybe I did it to myself,” he said and his hand tightened on his ice pack.

“I'm not amused, Atemu,” Adira said, and Atemu ignored her. She stepped forward, insistent. “Please tell me you didn't hurt yourself –”

“I didn't,” Atemu said, exasperated, “just got in a fight with some other kids. Same song, different chorus. I'm fine, mom. _Really.”_

“Names,” she demanded, and Atemu shook his head.

“Drop it, mom,” he replied curtly, and she irately pulled the handles of her tote over her shoulder before she crossed her arms over her chest. However, she said nothing, the edges of her lips twitching with the need to press. Her eyes briefly drifted to Melvin, and Atemu felt him shift on the bed before she cleared her throat and looked around.

“What story did you give the staff?” she asked.

“Said I fell from a tree,” Atemu said, and his mother pursed her lips at him.

“Alright,” she said briskly, “where's your doctor?”

In less than an hour, Atemu was prescribed his painkillers and discharged from the hospital. He was being driven back to Melvin's by his mother who had flat-out refused to let him walk back. No tantrum Atemu could throw could have possibly swayed her otherwise. The ride was silent with Atemu sitting like a stone in the passenger seat and Melvin listening to opera in the back, humming along idly.

“This fight,” Adira began, and Atemu sighed, cutting her off.

“Drop it, mom,” Atemu said tiredly, and she shook her head.

“I'm allowing you to stay with Melvin for the time being,” she said stiffly. “Do not take my permission for weakness – the least you owe me right now is an explanation.”

Gritting his teeth, Atemu said, “Fine.”

“Did this fight involve that Yuugi person you mentioned?” she asked.

“Define 'involved',” Atemu answered carefully.

“Was it because of them?” she clarified, and Atemu snorted, amused.

“Are you kidding?” Atemu mused, “Yuugi abhors violence. There's no way … no, Yuugi didn't start the fight. Those assholes came after me alone. If anything, Yuugi tried to stop it.” He kept the extenuating circumstances to himself. His mother did not need to know that much.

“Abhors violence?” Adira murmured. “I would like to meet this Yuugi.”

“Why?” Atemu asked with sudden suspicion, turning to frown at his mother.

“I have never known you to be interested in anyone before,” she said quietly, “which is why your father and I –”

“He's _not_ my father,” Atemu snapped, and Adira pursed her lips, taking a deep breath as she kept her eyes on the road.

“Which is why,” she repeated, “Tanin and I thought it would be a good idea to set you up with Mr. Wong's daughter.” She sighed, shoulders drooping. “Obviously, we made a mistake,” she said, turning her head to look at Atemu as they idled at a stoplight, “and I'm sorry I didn't consult with you –”

“'Consult' with me?” Atemu said, incredulous, “What am I? Your son or a business associate?”

“Atemu, I am trying to apologize,” Adira said, brow furrowing disbelievingly, “I only want what's best for you – I wish you would stop trying to demonize me and _see_ that.”

“What's best for me?” Atemu echoed hollowly before he unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and stepped out. He ducked his head and said, “You mean what's best for _him.”_ He slammed the car door closed and walked away, grateful when he realized he was only a couple of blocks away from Melvin's house.

In the car, Melvin sighed as he pulled the earphones from his ears, meeting Adira's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

“Watch over him,” she said softly, and Melvin nodded at her.

“Of course, Aunt Adira,” he replied. “I'll text you later.”

“Thank you, Melvin,” she said before she sternly added, “and please keep out of trouble.” Melvin nodded again, taking the bag of medicine she handed him from the front seat. “You boys don't need anything?” she asked.

“Nah,” Melvin said as he opened the door, “we're good. See ya, auntie.”

Exiting the vehicle, Melvin closed the door and followed after Atemu, wrapping his earbuds around his phone. Atemu was walking with determination, eyes dead set on the path ahead even as he limped. He had pulled a muscle in his leg during the fight, but it was minor and would soon restore itself with rest. Behind him, Melvin picked up his pace. He pulled up by Atemu's side, tucking his phone and earphones into his pocket as he went.

“You forgot your pills,” Melvin said as he held up the pharmacy bag and presented it to Atemu. With a scoff, Atemu took the paper bag, stuffing it and its contents into his roomy pajama pant pocket.

“Thanks,” Atemu muttered, the bitter taste of his conversation with his mother still in his mouth.

“No problem,” Melvin said promptly and then quieted, walking beside Atemu in silence. “You're not going to school today,” he added after a long moment, and Atemu whipped his head around, eyes wide.

“The hell I'm not,” Atemu said angrily, “if those creeps show up looking for me, they'll go straight –”

“Don't worry about it,” Melvin shrugged. Atemu turned to look at him, incredulous. Huffing, Melvin elaborated. “I'll keep an eye on your flower,” he said.

“Melvin,” Atemu objected, and Melvin stopped, grabbing him by his shoulder and looking him straight in the eye. Annoyed, Atemu made to brush him off, to keep arguing until he was blue in the face, but Melvin spoke before he could so much as twitch.

“Promise,” Melvin said, and with that word alone, Atemu relaxed, his shoulders slumping in relief. He let his gaze fall to the ground and he closed his eyes, breathing a sigh before he looked up and met his cousin's pale lavender eyes.

“Thanks,” said Atemu, and Melvin nodded, patting his shoulder roughly before he moved on towards the house. After a second, Atemu followed, his footsteps trailing calmly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed this special look into Melvin! There was a lot to learn!
> 
> Also, I would like to apologize bc it seems as though I'm going to be rather busy for a bit. My writing will have to be put on the backburner due to circumstances beyond my control. I'm really sorry for the inconvenience, but I will really try extra hard to keep the updates going as regularly as I can. (Will keep y'all posted on [Twitter!](https://mobile.twitter.com/uglybuffet/)) ♡♡♡


	24. Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A single phone call impacts Yuugi's good spirits and it doesn't help that Atemu is nowhere to be seen. For Jounouchi, things are just as troubling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-ooo! First of all, my biggest bad, friends. I took far too long with this update, but it's finally here! Yay! Enjoy!

“Yuugi!” Ashita, Yuugi's mother, called up the stairs, “Phone for you! It's your father!”

Dressed and ready for school, Yuugi stood by his desk, quickly shoving his books into his backpack and almost knocking over his lamp in the process. Glancing about the room for anything he could be forgetting, he shouldered the bag and rushed out. He made his way down the stairs where his mother stood with a wooden spoon in hand and the house phone in the other. She leaned down as he came to a stop, pressing a kiss to his cheek and the phone into his grip. Yuugi smiled at her and put the phone up to his ear as she went around him, humming to herself.

“Sweetie, you left your backpack open,” she said as she fidgeted with his bag.

“Thanks, mom,” Yuugi answered her before speaking into the phone with a smile on his face. “Hello?” he said, “Dad?”

 _“Yuugi,”_ greeted the serene voice of his father, _“I was hoping to catch you before you went to school, how are you?”_

“I'm good, dad,” Yuugi answered excitedly as his mother continued to mess with his backpack, “mom finally enrolled me into public school and it's great there! I already made friends! How have you been? I miss you. Are you coming home soon?”

 _“I'm glad to hear,”_ said his father and he neglected to answer or even acknowledge Yuugi's question. He paused for a second before he said, _“Your mother sent me an interesting photograph a couple of days ago.”_

In that moment, Yuugi felt his insides turn to freezing slush as he recalled the picture and his mother's words.

_“...I sent that picture I got of you two kissing to your father!”_

“Oh, no,” Yuugi said aloud, and his father hummed on the other end of the line.

 _“I've got to say,”_ his father said, _“I'm a little surprised.”_ He hesitated. _“You never seemed …_ gay. _Maybe a little too sweet for a boy, and that's probably my fault for not being around much, but gay?”_

The slush in Yuugi's gut cemented into an icy, heavy block, and he dropped his gaze to the floor.

 _“Your mother says you have a boyfriend,”_ his father continued, _“this young man in the photo – Atemu Goutei?”_ He sighed heavily and said, _“Yuugi, this is just a passing phase. All boys are curious at your age. Have your fun, but don't do anything you can't erase with a nice bottle of warm sake.”_

The ice spread to Yuugi's heart, leaving him cold.

“I don't think this is a phase, dad,” Yuugi objected softly and his father scoffed.

 _“Trust me, son,”_ he replied in a knowing tone, _“you'll get over this in a month. I'll let you go to school now – I just wanted to make sure you're alright. Give your mother a kiss for me, I have to get back to work now –”_

“Dad,” Yuugi protested weakly.

 _“Remember what I said,”_ came the no-nonsense shut down from his father, _“goodbye, son.”_

The dial tone sounded then and Yuugi did not feel the kiss that his mother pressed to his numb cheek. There was a lump of shame slipping down his throat through his esophagus and into his stomach, settling low and heavy. His shoulders hunched, and Yuugi suddenly felt incredibly small.

“I made you breakfast,” Ashita said kindly, nudging his shoulder lightly with her knuckles, and Yuugi shook his head, silently handing her the phone. After that conversation, he could not possibly eat. Any appetite he might have had before his father's call had effectively curdled in his stomach in queasy lumps.

“I'm good,” he said, the lie forcing itself from his lips, “I think I'm just going to head to school. Dad sends his love.”

“Are you sure?” Ashita asked, but Yuugi was already walking away.

“Yeah, mom,” he said, his heart heavy in his chest.

* * *

Yuugi's walk to school began as a blur. His brain was on autopilot and his thoughts numb. His conversation with his father rang in his head as though he had shouted. It was more than obvious what he had meant to say. For his father, it was plenty clear that Yuugi was only confused and his curiosity would soon be sated. And while his father had hinted tolerance for Yuugi's newfound beau, it was practically transparent that it would only be for a limited amount of time. In the end, Yuugi was expected to conform. Taking a deep breath, Yuugi's heart ached at the thought. His attraction to Atemu was not a phase. If he had needed proof, it laid in the two kisses they had shared. He had very much _liked_ them. His body responded to Atemu's, and that was not his imagination. Yuugi liked boys just as he liked girls. However, there was no way his father would accept him and he did not know what to do about it. He made it several blocks before he was abruptly ripped from his disquieted headspace by a rough hand on his shoulder.

“Hey!” Malik shouted, and Yuugi yelped. Slapping a hand over his ringing ear, he turned to a peeved Malik. “I've been shouting your name for like fifty years!” Malik complained, breaths coming in pants as though he had sprinted. “I've got a very distinctive voice, how could you not hear me?”

“Oh,” Yuugi said dumbly. His eyes lifted from his friend to Melvin as he came up behind Malik, tall and menacing with an expression that, relaxed as it was, still rendered him mute with apprehension. Melvin's mere presence was a looming shadow that towered over him with ease, exuding a distinct lack of given fucks that Yuugi could feel in the chill that crawled down his spine. Swallowing the lump in his throat from earlier, he turned his gaze back to Malik. “Sorry, Malik. I didn't hear you.”

“Well, that's obvious,” Malik said with a roll of his eyes. He shrugged then, uncaring. “It's cool,” he said, “let's walk to school together!”

“Sure!” Yuugi said, and it was then that Malik noticed the new addition to Yuugi's cheekbone.

“What the frig happened to your face?” Malik demanded, grabbing Yuugi's chin and inspecting the new bruise closely, “That wasn't there yesterday – did my asshole cousin do this? I swear –”

“No!” Yuugi objected, eyes wide, “Some jerk punched me – it's a long story, and Atemu punched him back … like fifty times.”

“Oh,” Malik said, understanding, tapping his fist into the palm of his other hand, “so _that's_ what happened to Atemu.”

“Speaking of Atemu,” Yuugi said, his eyes trailing away from Malik's as he looked around for that familiar head of gorgeous red hair. When he saw none, he felt his mood dip even further and the smile on his face faltered. “Where's Atemu?” he asked Malik.

But Melvin was the one to answer.

“Sick,” he said, eyeing Yuugi closely, “you look sick too.”

“I'm not sick,” Yuugi replied, confused, and Melvin shrugged.

“Must be the lighting,” he said idly and pressed on, passing both of them by in a slow stroll.

“Ignore him,” Malik said, “he never makes sense.”

“Is Atemu okay?” Yuugi asked quietly. “He looked really bad yesterday.”

“He's fine,” Malik said, waving a dismissive hand as he began to walk, Yuugi at his side, “he just needs bed rest.”

“Bed rest doesn't sound so bad,” Yuugi remarked and Malik scoffed.

“Might as well have given him a death sentence,” Malik laughed, and when he noticed Yuugi's alarmed look, he added, “he really didn't like that he had to stay home. Melvin had to slip something into his food.”

“He drugged him?” Yuugi gasped, and Malik shrugged.

“Yeah,” Malik said, “Melvin had some Vicodin to shut him up with.”

“What's Vicodin?” Yuugi said curiously.

“Oh,” Malik said, as though recalling who he was talking to. He looked at Yuugi for a moment, searching his eyes before he lifted a hand to the side of his mouth and whispered, “Vicodin is an American medicine. Illegal. Hush-hush.” He raised his eyebrows at Yuugi who blinked at him in astonishment.

“Your brother deals drugs?” Yuugi whispered and Malik glanced around, wary eyes on passerby before shaking his head. “For the _yakuza?”_

 _“No,”_ Malik said a little forcefully, a wrinkle in his nose and an angry glint in his eye. He took a breath and sighed it out, readjusting his shoulders and returning to a forced nonchalance. “They called themselves that, but they're just wannabe gangsters who pretend to adopt the old _yakuza_ code – when it's _convenient_ for them.”

“So does he still deal?” Yuugi asked uncomfortably. Unaware of Yuugi's unease, Malik shrugged.

“He did it a couple of times, but Rishid found out and almost lost his mind,” Malik mumbled. “He and my sister asked my aunt for the money, so those _assholes_ would back off and leave Melvin alone.” Malik's brow furrowed and he grit his jaw tight. “Rishid,” he said, pausing for a single second. His expression seemed to waver and shake until he forced the emotions away and let out a heavy breath. Clearing his throat, he adopted an uncaring façade. “He took care of it and got Melvin free. He also told Melvin to flush all the pills, but Melvin kept some of them because he's _Melvin.”_ He suddenly shot a dirty look at his brother's back before huffing and glancing to the side at Yuugi. “This goes without saying, but don't tell anyone. I'm trusting you, Yuugi.”

“Wow,” Yuugi said, amazed by Malik's tale. He quickly nodded in reassurance. “Don't worry, I won't say anything.” He took a breath, processing the information before he frowned. “Who's Rishid?”

“Older brother,” Malik replied as he looked away, and Yuugi hummed.

“You have another brother?” Yuugi said.

“Adopted,” Malik input.

“Sounds nice,” Yuugi said.

“Not really,” Malik said in annoyance, “he's overbearing and overprotective just like Melvin. Ishizu too.”

“Sister?” Yuugi asked, and Malik nodded.

“How about your parents?” Yuugi asked, and Malik suddenly cleared his throat, hunching his shoulders.

“Dead,” he said flatly, and Yuugi's brow furrowed with sadness.

“I'm sorry –” Yuugi tried to say, but Malik waved him off.

“It was a long time ago,” Malik said, “no big deal. Never even met my mom. Died giving birth to me.”

“Okay,” Yuugi said, sensing the end of that conversation. “Do you think,” he said hesitantly, veering away from the topic and fiddling with his fingers, “that I could visit Atemu after school?”

“Please do,” Malik replied tiredly, “all he did was whine about not seeing you today before we left. Something about a promise.”

“He did?” Yuugi mumbled, a pleased blush filling his cheeks, “Oh.”

“Wow,” Malik said as he pushed forward after his elder brother, picking up his pace to reach him, “you're so in love that even _I'm_ embarrassed.” To Melvin, he shouted, “Hey! Don't leave me behind!” Melvin immediately paused without turning, waiting for them to catch up.

“I'm –” Yuugi began to protest, chasing after Malik, but he cut himself off, frowning. Toying with his lip between his teeth, Yuugi did not continue on that vein. Malik turned his head to look at him and Yuugi lowered his gaze to the pavement under their feet. “I just like him,” he said.

A loud scoff sounded behind him and Yuugi looked up, startled. Before he could turn around, however, a taller brunette shoved rudely past him. Yuugi stumbled and Malik instantly caught him against his taller frame, shouting indignantly.

“Hey!” Malik said, “What's your problem? Are you blind?” He straightened Yuugi, grumbling angrily as he did so.

When Yuugi finally focused on the person who had shoved him, his eyes widened in shock. He would recognize that pointy haircut anywhere. It was Honda. Yuugi stared for all of a second before reality hit him and his heart withered miserably inside him. Gut churning with guilt, he sighed and his gaze fell to the ground in reluctant acceptance.

“Rude!” Malik yelled after him, and Yuugi waved a hesitant hand at Malik.

“Malik,” he said, “stop.”

“Isn't that your upperclassman friend?” Malik asked him, squinting. But Yuugi said nothing, unwilling to respond. “Honda? What a rude prick.”

Yuugi glanced at Malik, stomach twisting as Malik glared ahead.

“Hey, let go!”

Abruptly, Yuugi looked back and sick filled his system. Ahead of them, Melvin had come to life, having seized their rude passerby by his collar. Yuugi's eyes widened.

“Problem?” Melvin questioned, tone deadly.

“Let go of me!” shouted Honda, and Melvin snorted, eyes narrowing in wicked delight.

“My cousin's not here to save your ass again,” Melvin said, and Yuugi ran up to them, holding up his hands in surrender as Melvin's cold lavender eyes snapped to him.

“Please let him go,” Yuugi said, and Melvin's hands tightened on Honda, his shoulders tensing. Anxiously, Yuugi looked around, hoping for people, an audience, but the street was deserted. At once, Yuugi's mouth dried up and he felt chills run down his spine. He could not stop Melvin on his own. Melvin was twice his size and more than a little experienced with fighting if what he had heard at school was any indication. Hell, he had messed around with a _gang_ according to Malik. Yuugi would not stand a chance. Melvin opened his mouth to speak and Yuugi stilled.

“He shoved you,” Melvin said plainly as Honda continued to struggle like a moth caught in a spider's web, “seems to me like he owes you an apology.”

“N-no, it's fine,” Yuugi struggled to say.

“Melvin, drop him,” Malik ordered from Yuugi's side, and Melvin scoffed.

“No,” he said, laughing as though it were the most absurd request he had ever heard. Malik darted forward then, grabbing Melvin's shoulder and squeezing as Yuugi stood, increasingly nervous by the second.

“Drop him,” Malik repeated, “Ishizu is going to be pissed if I have to call her and tell her you're in juvie.”

“He has to apologize first,” Melvin said, shaking Honda as if that would loosen his lips. He looked at him then, eyes lethal as he spoke. “Hear that, worm? Apologize to the flower.” He yanked Honda around then, pushing his brother aside as he forced Honda to look at Yuugi's stricken, pale face.

“I'm sorry,” Honda bit out and Melvin pulled him around again, tossing him aside like he were nothing more than a rag doll. Honda fell to the ground with a grunt, breathing raggedly before he lifted his gaze to Yuugi, betrayal and anger in his brown eyes. “Your new friends sure are something,” he said quietly, “I only hope you know who you're siding with.”

“Time to go,” Melvin said, ushering Malik forward, “school awaits.” He turned his eyes to Yuugi, registering the stupefaction and conflict in his expression. He cleared his throat and Yuugi looked at him, a perfect picture of uncertainty. He looked like a lost child, scared and helpless. “Let's go, flower.”

“Yuugi,” Malik called to him, eyes worried, “come on. Let's get out of here.” He came forward, taking Yuugi's arm and pulling him along. “Just walk,” he whispered urgently, “don't make him have to carry you.”

Mechanically, Yuugi moved. He felt pallid and chilled, sick to his stomach. His gaze drifted to Honda as he went, but the face that looked back at him was haunting, and it made his insides twist with self-loathing and regret. Melvin stepped over to Honda then, leaning to speak.

“No one touches Pharaoh's things without his say,” he said lowly, “keep your hands off or lose them.” With that, he turned and walked. He noted that Yuugi had frozen and nudged him into motion, unmoved by the look of absolute shock on his face. “Get a move on, flower,” he said, and Yuugi stiffened, lips turning to a bitter grimace.

“I'm not a flower,” Yuugi said quietly, and Melvin ignored him. Halting in his tracks, Yuugi's chest puffed up with bravado. He turned his gaze to Melvin, irked when he continued on without him. “I'm not a flower,” he repeated before he finally raised his voice, “I'm not a flower! And Honda is my friend!”

Without stopping, Melvin raised a hand and acknowledged Yuugi's words with a careless wave. Malik turned, looking to him with a concerned crease in his brow. For a moment, Yuugi did not move, looking back at where Honda was slowly picking himself up and brushing himself off. He glanced back to Malik before fully turning to Honda.

“Honda, I'm sorry –” Yuugi began to say when Honda cut him off with a scathing remark.

“Save it,” he said as he walked by, hurrying past the Ishtar brothers and towards school. Left behind, Yuugi stood, rooted to the spot with Malik gazing at him with concern.

* * *

In the hour before class began, Seto Kaiba waited on the staircase for a particular blonde. After his unexpected and baffling defeat the previous day, he was ready to have another go. This time, he _would_ be successful and Katsuya Jounouchi _would_ be his. With Atemu's advice under his belt, Kaiba felt well prepared and was certain that he could not possibly fail again. He was Seto Kaiba after all, and Seto Kaiba did not accept defeat.

So in this, his second attempt to woo Jounouchi, Seto Kaiba had a plan. First and foremost, he needed privacy. By his calculations, the place most likely to be empty was the staircase and when he arrived, Kaiba found he had been correct. As it was early, most of the students in the building were visiting in their friends' classrooms. Glancing around, he found he was completely alone, which perfectly suited his motives. Occasionally, a student came up or down, greeting him politely and watching with curiosity as they left. But Kaiba paid them no mind and simply leaned against the wall, watching the door and waiting patiently.

It was only a matter of time before Katsuya Jounouchi walked through the door. He had to in order to get to their homeroom. And there on the staircase, Kaiba would get his chance.

Ten minutes of stony, brooding silence later, the door opened and a familiar blonde stepped inside. Deep in his own world, he headed up to Kaiba, pausing when he noticed a pair of feet in the way. Only then did Katsuya Jounouchi look up, eyes widening at the sight of him. He paused, jaw visibly tightening and shoulders tensing.

“Jounouchi –” Kaiba attempted.

“No,” said Jounouchi, holding up his arms and crossing them into an “X”. The mere gesture made Kaiba pause, incredulous at the refusal. “No way,” he said to a stunned Kaiba, “not a word. Denied, rejected, buzz off.”

It was just Katsuya Jounouchi's luck.

Class had not even begun yet, and already Jounouchi was suffering. He cursed the day Seto Kaiba walked into his life. Before that day, he had been young and carefree. Before Kaiba, the only things that went through Jounouchi's mind on a daily basis were his kid sister and putting out the lit cigarettes his father often held in his sleep. But then Seto Kaiba came along and turned his world completely upside down. Suddenly, he was trying harder in school, tired of listening to Kaiba's “dumb blonde” putdowns. Then he was leaving the gang he used to hang with, determined to prove Kaiba wrong about his “type” and gaining Yuugi as a friend in one fell swoop. Yet, no matter what he did, Jounouchi could never measure up to Kaiba. But he continued trying, all the while completely oblivious to the fact that his trying to one-up Kaiba was actually an attempt to get his approval and attention.

Only, Jounouchi was not so clueless anymore. Now that he knew he liked Kaiba, he realized to the fullest extent that everything he had done was to impress him. And in an odd turn of events, he had achieved it. Kaiba _liked_ him. However, Jounouchi had quickly come to realize that the old adage was true: ignorance really was bliss. He was better off not knowing about his tremendous crush since Seto Kaiba was a complete douche bag.

“Jounouchi,” Kaiba hissed, but Jounouchi firmly shook his head as he walked by.

Jounouchi tensed as he moved towards Kaiba, half-expecting him to grab his arm. However, much to his surprise, Kaiba did nothing and Jounouchi passed him with minimal difficulty, swerving around and clearing him.

“No!” Jounouchi called as he high-tailed it out of Kaiba's vicinity and up the stairs of the school building. He would be damned if he let Kaiba try to claw his way out of the hole he had dug himself into. Because if there was one thing Katsuya Jounouchi knew, it was that name-calling was not flirting and fighting was not affection. He could thank his father for that lesson. He would never be like his father and he sure as hell would not date someone like him.

So even if his heart was heavy with reluctance, Jounouchi left Kaiba alone and headed to his classroom.

But his troubles were far from over. Standing before the door to the classroom, Honda was waiting for him with crossed arms and a furrowed brow. Sighing heavily, Jounouchi rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath, preparing for Honda's confrontation.

“We gotta talk,” Honda said as Jounouchi drew level with him.

“Yeah?” Jounouchi replied warily, and Honda nodded.

“Yeah,” Honda said. He jabbed his thumb up, pointing. “On the roof. Come on.”

* * *

On the roof, there was no one around. While grateful for the privacy, Jounouchi almost wished there were people there so he would not have to hear the tirade he knew was coming. Bracing himself, he turned to Honda, the wind whipping his hair to the side.

Regardless of whatever their face-off would bring, he was ready.

“Well?” he said, “Let's hear it.”

“Why didn't you back me up?” Honda started, brow scrunched with confusion and jaw clenched in restrained anger. “Yesterday, why didn't you back me up after what that bastard did to Aizawa? Did you not see his face? I could barely recognize him!”

“Honda,” Jounouchi said slowly, sighing. He shook his head, hands moving into his pockets as his shoulders slumped. “Can't you tell Atemu's changing?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Honda said lowly, “Are you serious right now?” When Jounouchi opened his mouth to respond, Honda held up his hand, stopping him. “He's a criminal,” Honda said incredulously, “he _killed_ a guy – he's hurt people – he threatened to break my wrist just yesterday!” Taking a breath, Honda shook his head. “How can you all be so _blind?”_

“I'm not blind,” Jounouchi argued, “but I know what it feels like to want a second chance … and Yuugi gave that to me, Honda. He gave that to me – to _both_ of us – without batting an eye. The least we could do for Yuugi is give Atemu a chance … that's what he wants.”

“You said you were going to help me!” Honda accused. “So what, now you've changed your mind?”

“Look, I wanted to help you,” Jounouchi said, nodding his head, “I was going to, but I won't.” He shook his head firmly, and Honda's expression twisted. But before he could go off, Jounouchi continued. “Honda,” he said, “you're my best friend. And I thought I was supposed to back you up no matter what, but _this_ – I can't back you up on this. I can't help you and turn my back on Yuugi.” He removed his hands from his pockets and clenched them at his sides, looking to the ground between them. “It doesn't feel right,” he said, “I don't agree with you and I won't back you up on this. I'm sorry.”

“Are you serious!” Honda shouted, furious, “I can't believe you're buying into that asshole's bullshit! We can't let Yuugi date that guy!”

“Why is this such a big deal to you?” Jounouchi snapped, spreading his arms in confusion. “This is Yuugi's decision! Why are you so against Yuugi going out with Atemu? He hasn't even done anything to hurt him!”

“And you're going to wait until he does?” Honda argued, “You're just going to stand by until that creep puts his dirty hands on our friend?” Scoffing, Honda clenched his hands, reaching up to brace them against his head. “I can't believe this,” Honda said breathlessly, “you're siding with a murderer!”

“No,” Jounouchi said firmly, “I'm siding with Yuugi.” He lifted his chin. “Our _friend,_ remember? I'm choosing to have faith in him.”

“No offense,” Honda said nastily, dropping his arms, “but Yuugi's not exactly known to make the best decisions – he's so damn gullible that even if something goes to shit, he'll let it happen just as soon as Atemu bats his eyelashes at him and pleads innocent!”

“Dude,” Jounouchi said feelingly, “that's a little fucked up. Why can't you just believe in Yuugi?”

“Because I got jumped by Ishtar this morning and Yuugi did nothing to stop him,” Honda said quietly, “so go on and support his stupid decisions.” He saw the surprise on Jounouchi's face and promptly ignored it. “Go ahead and let Yuugi date that psycho – let him be a complete moron –”

“That's too far, Honda!” Jounouchi said angrily, reaching out to grab the front of his shirt, “That's our friend you're talking about!”

“Our friend that suddenly stopped giving a shit about us as soon as some hot guy made eyes at him!” Honda cried, shoving Jounouchi away, “Or have you been blind to that too?” Pursing his lips, Honda shook his head. “I don't get it,” he said, “out of everyone, Yuugi fell for that piece of shit? And on top of that, both my best friends turned against me because I'm the only one who dares make sense?” He began walking then, moving past Jounouchi and to the door. Grabbing him by the arm, Jounouchi made to speak, but Honda yanked away, glaring at him. “No,” he said, “you and Yuugi can fawn over Atemu all you want. I'm done with this. See you around, Jounouchi.”

Without another word, Honda left the rooftop, the door quietly but firmly closing behind him.

* * *

Yuugi's greatest fear had become reality. He had lost a friend. The mere irony of the fact that he had told everyone his fear only for it to come true the next day was not lost on him. Sighing, Yuugi watched Melvin walk away, heading to his own classroom. He had dropped Yuugi and Malik off at their classroom door, looking around carefully before he left without a word. His curious actions went ignored as Yuugi was too busy mourning the loss of one of his friendships. He needed to make up with Honda somehow. Yuugi did not want to lose him. His fear was precisely why he had neglected to talk to Jounouchi and Honda about being nicer to Atemu. He had feared abandonment, and he had been right to be afraid.

Beside Yuugi, Malik nudged his arm, and he turned, meeting his guilty eyes.

“I'm sorry, Yuugi,” Malik said uncomfortably, as though he were not used to apologizing. His lips twisted at one end and his eyes did not quite meet Yuugi's. “For what Melvin did to your friend … even though your friend was an ass.”

“Thanks, Malik,” Yuugi said with a wry smile, “but it's my fault Honda's mad at me.”

Malik frowned, opening his mouth to object when Ryou popped up beside him, grinning and happy.

“Hey, guys!”

“Ryou!” Malik gasped, staggering to the side and grasping the place over his heart, “Wear a bell or something, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry, Malik,” Ryou immediately apologized, though his smile was far from apologetic, “I didn't mean to scare you.” He looked between Yuugi and Malik then, brow furrowing. “Everything okay?” he asked before his eyes zeroed in on Yuugi's cheek. “What happened to you?” he asked, concerned.

“Oh,” Yuugi said, reaching up to touch his new bruise, “Atemu got in a fight with some guys and one of them punched me.”

“Wow,” Ryou said, reaching out as if to touch Yuugi's cheek before dropping his hand, “are you okay – are _those_ guys okay? I can only imagine what he did to them. Is Atemu okay? Melvin? Was he there too?”

“Melvin and I were at home being boring,” Malik groused, and Ryou's shoulders lowered from where they had been inching up. “We missed the fight.”

“And,” Yuugi said, “they're all pretty okay, except for the guy that punched me. Vivian and Anzu showed up. Turns out Vivian is a badass martial artist. She took care of the others while Atemu went after the one that hit me.”

“That's surprising,” Ryou said, and Malik scoffed in amusement.

“Oh, please,” Malik muttered before he raised his voice to say, “Atemu's the one who's all beat up.”

“How many _were_ there exactly?” Ryou asked, brow furrowed.

“Four,” Yuugi said, and he frowned, “they were all friends of the guy who stole my money.”

“Geez,” Ryou said, taking a breath, “what else did I miss?”

“Yuugi's friend is a dick and Melvin scared him a little,” Malik summarized succinctly.

“Oh,” Ryou said, looking thrown for a loop, “Melvin did – what exactly happened?”

“What _always_ happens with Melvin?” Malik retorted and Ryou's expression fell slightly. “Something set him off,” Malik said with a shrug, “and he got too aggressive with Yuugi's friend.”

“He hurt your friend?” Ryou asked Yuugi who lowered his gaze to the ground.

“I don't think he's my friend anymore,” Yuugi said, “but that's my fault. I haven't been considerate of his feelings –”

“His feelings on _what_ exactly – that he can't stand that you got a thing for my cousin?” Malik interrupted, “It's not your fault that he can't get over himself.” When Yuugi's mouth twisted with doubt, Malik huffed. “Screw him, Yuugi – you deserve better friends than an asshole who can't trust you to make your own decisions.” He crossed his arms over his chest, grimacing. “I mean,” he said with a raised eyebrow in Yuugi's direction, “I'm also questioning why you chose Atemu of all people, but I'm not about to get in your face about it. It's your business, not mine.”

“But,” Yuugi protested, and Ryou nodded his head in agreement.

“I have to agree with Malik, Yuugi,” Ryou said, his tone firm but his eyes soft, “you're in charge of your own choices.” He motioned to Malik and himself then. “We,” he said, “as your friends, can give you advice and help when you need us, but we can't decide who you get to date or hold it against you … unless we have history.” Ryou shrugged then, shaking his head. “But you don't have to worry about that with Atemu,” he continued, “no one has history with him.”

“No one's caught his eye until you,” Malik added with a scrutinizing gaze at Yuugi's body, “I mean, you're pretty cute, so I'm not surprised, but Atemu's … so _strange.”_

Blushing, Yuugi fiddled with his hands, fighting the urge to protest.

“Thanks, Malik,” Yuugi said shyly before looking to Ryou, “and thank you for saying that, but I didn't even _try_ talking to Honda about Atemu and I should have. He's one of my best friends.”

“I get it,” Ryou said with a wry smile, “and you should try talking to him, but don't let him dictate who you date.” He reached out then, placing a comforting hand on Yuugi's shoulder. “Just give your friend some time to cool off first,” he said, “can't talk to a hothead. Just look at Malik and my brother –”

“Excuse you,” Malik said indignantly, “I am not a hothead – it's all your brother's fault! If anyone here is a hothead, it's him!”

“Anyway,” Ryou said with a kind smile, ignoring Malik's outburst, “if your friend keeps being a dick, I can always curse him for you.”

“What,” Yuugi uttered, and Malik snorted.

“Ryou really likes the occult,” Malik said with a sure nod, “beware … seriously though. He gave a guy pimples one time.” Self-consciously, he touched his face and grimaced. “It was terrible,” he whispered, almost as if talking to himself, “he cried and never forgave Ryou –”

“Your face cleared up soon enough!” Ryou chirped and Malik glared at him.

“I said _'never_ forgave him',” Malik repeated grimly, and Ryou only smiled.

“That sounds really cool,” Yuugi said, “how did you do it?”

“With the forces of hell,” Ryou winked, laughing when Yuugi blanched before he leaned in and whispered, “the stress of thinking I cursed him is what actually gave him the pimples.”

Yuugi laughed in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So y'all got a peek at the Ishtar family. How'd ya like it? Also more violetshipping. Looks like Jounouchi isn't giving in. Will Kaiba ever get a chance? (Is Seto Kaiba really Mojo Jojo in disguise?)
> 
> Also, for new readers, if you like this fic, check out my others! I esp. recommend my most recent faves: **[Aahmes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8534260), [The Things You Couldn't Say](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8338237),** and **[Royal Rendezvous Revisited](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9287144),** sequel to **[Impromptu Royal Rendezvous](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3650610).**


	25. What Friendship Is Made Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not-so-secret secrets revealed, Jounouchi makes a choice, Melvin's angry, and Honda's angrier still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, y'all, this is super late. My bad, things intervened. I'm not abandoning anything, don't worry. Just wanted this chapter to be perfect. Hope you'll enjoy!

After leaving his little brother and Atemu's boyfriend at their classroom, Melvin proceeded to his own, tense as he passed the students in the halls. They watched him warily as he ambled by, sidestepping quickly and far to avoid getting in his way. Where the students feared his cousin's terrible temper, they paid Melvin wide berth regardless of his mood. He knew they thought him unpredictable and violent.

He did not disagree.

Melvin stopped outside of his classroom, contemplating whether attending was worth his time when he would have no one to distract him from the utter blandness around him. It was then that he heard the familiar grunt of one Touzoku Bakura. Looking down the hall, he watched Bakura swerve around students, shoving past them and bumping shoulders carelessly. His hands were deep in his pockets and he looked quite displeased, as was usual for him.

“Yo, dick,” Melvin greeted Bakura as he came to a stop beside him.

“Ugh,” Bakura grunted back at him, yawning. He glanced around, scoffing to himself. “Pharaoh with his queen?” he asked derisively, running a wayward hand through his ruffled hair.

“Pharaoh's not here,” Melvin replied with a grimace before gesturing at the hall, “wanna get out of here?”

“Definitely,” Bakura said, and the two started off down the hall, past their classroom without hesitation. “So where is our mighty leader?”

“Bed rest,” Melvin snorted.

“What,” Bakura said, frowning, “since when does Atemu do bed rest?”

“Since I drugged him,” Melvin said as though it were obvious, glancing at Bakura with a skeptical eye. “Damn bullheaded idiot wanted to come to school even though he's got fractured ribs.”

“Fractured ribs?” Bakura asked, baffled. “The hell happened yesterday?”

“Pharaoh and his little queen got jumped, apparently,” Melvin said with a grimace, “idiot wouldn't tell me who did it, but he got home looking like he went three rounds with a bull and his boyfriend's got a shiny new bruise.” He pointed to his jaw to indicate the spot and shrugged. “Kid bruises like a peach. When Malik asked the tiny one, he didn't say who it was.”

“My money's on Ushio's crew,” Bakura muttered as a group of students passed them. “Of course they wouldn't let that shit he pulled slide.”

“Let's find out then,” Melvin said as he pulled out his phone. He pulled up his little brother's contact information and quickly formed a text.

 

 **To _his royal ripeness_ :**  
**who hurt your friend.**

 

They continued on, heading for the stairs.

“Bring your bat today?” Bakura asked.

“Nah,” Melvin said, “haven't cleaned it since Pharaoh used it.”

“So you just have a bloodied bat sitting around your house?” Bakura said. He paused just as they entered the stairwell, a sudden thought occurring to him. He turned narrowed eyes on Melvin who continued walking in his wake. “What about Malik?” he said quickly, going after him down the steps. “You know how he is with blood –” He had almost reached him when he suddenly cut himself off and froze, hand gripping the rail tightly. His eyes widened in surprise, but Melvin seemed not to notice as he halted and scoffed at Bakura's remark.

“You really think I just left it lying around somewhere he can see it?” Melvin retorted, turning to see Bakura standing rather still. “Nice to know how much faith you have in me, dick,” Melvin said as he started again down the stairs, “but I shouldn't be so surprised, should I?”

“Alright,” Bakura snapped, following after him and quickly catching up. He grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks, and Melvin spun around, slapping Bakura's hand away. “What's your _problem?”_ Bakura said indignantly.

“None of your goddamned business is what's my problem,” Melvin sneered back. He waved at Bakura, motioning up the stairs where they had come from. “Changed my mind,” he said, “I'm going to class.” He made to go up the stairs, but Bakura crossed him, stopping his ascent. “Don't make me launch you down the fucking stairs,” Melvin snarled, and Bakura grit his jaw before stepping aside reluctantly. Melvin shoved forward, only to stop at Bakura's voice.

“What the hell did I do to piss you off?” Bakura muttered.

“Why don't you ask your big brother?” Melvin said lowly.

“You don't even _know_ Nusutto,” Bakura said incredulously.

“Gee, I wonder why,” Melvin said sarcastically as he climbed the steps and slipped through the door to the hall.

“Are you kidding me?” Bakura yelled after him. “What is it with you bleedin' Ishtars!” However, the door closed and no reply came. Slumping against the railing, Bakura groaned, lifting a hand to rub it against his face. “First Malik, now Melvin,” Bakura grumbled, “who's next … _Atemu?”_

* * *

Inside the classroom, the teacher had yet to arrive, and Yuugi turned to Ryou as he lowered himself onto his chair, suddenly curious.

“Hey, Ryou,” Yuugi said, “what happened yesterday? After your big brother came, you left so quickly.”

“Oh,” Ryou said, looking up from the backpack in his lap and shrugging lightly, “yeah, we went home and caught up.” He smiled brightly. “Turns out my brother's going to stay!” he said happily.

“Stay?” Yuugi questioned. “He doesn't live with you?”

“Oh, that's right,” Ryou said, “you don't know.” He lifted a hand, scratching at a spot in his chin before he shrugged. “My brother's been in Egypt with my dad for the past three years,” Ryou explained, “they've been searching for lost tombs and such. But he's finally back and Nusutto says he's going to stay.”

“For how long?” Malik questioned curiously, looking around at him from the chair in front of Yuugi.

“Forever,” Ryou replied, and Malik's brow creased doubtfully.

“Not to rain on your parade,” Malik said, “but don't get your hopes up, Ryou. Bakura told me once that your brother's a bit of a flake.”

“I know,” Ryou nodded. He shrugged nonchalantly. “But it's nice having him back for now. He even made breakfast. It was … interesting.”

“Interesting?” Yuugi questioned as Malik pulled his phone from his pocket, looking at it with a raised eyebrow.

“My brother's not the best cook,” Ryou said with a slight wince.

“I'm sorry,” Yuugi said sympathetically.

“It's alright,” Ryou said. He pursed his lips slightly and looked to Yuugi. “So did you guys have fun yesterday, aside from all the drama with those creeps?”

“It was … okay,” Yuugi said with a slight shrug, “I mean, no one tried to kill each other.”

“I'm sorry to have missed it,” Ryou said, “maybe we can do it again?”

“Of course,” Yuugi said with a smile, “we'll plan another one.” He glanced at Malik who was busy tapping away at his phone before he lowered his voice and leaned closer to Ryou, his voice a whisper. “By the way,” Yuugi said, “are you okay?”

“Okay?” Ryou questioned in confusion, “I'm fine.”

“Yeah, well,” Yuugi looked at the floor, reaching up to rub the back of his head. He lifted his gaze and waved his hand vaguely. “Yesterday, when Melvin and Honda got into it … you looked really upset.”

“I … did?” Ryou questioned, his voice a tiny thing. “I'm –” He glanced at Malik who was still focused on his phone, and Ryou's brow furrowed. Quickly, he pulled out his phone and started a new message, typing before he passed the device to Yuugi.

Baffled by the sudden secrecy, Yuugi took the phone with trembling fingers and looked at the screen.

 _I haven't even told Malik,_ it read.

 _Told him what?_ Yuugi slowly typed back, unused to the phone, and held it out. Taking it, Ryou read his reply and tapped away at the screen. With slight hesitation, he handed it back.

Looking down at it, Yuugi read the text and his eyes widened with shock.

“What,” Yuugi said. He lifted his gaze to Ryou's, noting the wry smile at his lips and the blotchy blush on his cheeks. “What,” Yuugi repeated.

Abruptly, the phone was pulled from his fingers, and Yuugi yelped in alarm as he tried to take it back. But the next thing he knew, Malik was reading the text aloud.

“'I like Melvin',” Malik read flatly, looking up to a nervous Ryou with a raised eyebrow and an unimpressed look on his features. “This is what you're being so secretive about?” Malik said with annoyance, waving the phone about. “What else is new? Geez, for a second there, I thought you were talking about me behind my back.” He handed the phone over, disinterested as both Yuugi and Ryou gaped at him.

“You knew?” Ryou said, taking the phone back numbly.

“Well, _duh,”_ Malik said as he leaned on Yuugi's desk, placing his cheek into his palm, “I can always tell when someone has feelings for someone else. I'm gifted that way.” He snorted, and Ryou raised an eyebrow at him, a skeptical look on his face.

“Could've fooled me,” he muttered, and Malik laughed, missing Ryou's comment.

“I'd be a complete moron if I couldn't see those dumb doe eyes you keep making at my brother when you think no one's looking,” Malik said, and Yuugi frowned.

“That's a bit mean, Malik,” Yuugi said quietly.

“But it's true!” Malik said indignantly as Ryou shifted uncomfortably.

“So you're not mad?” Ryou asked, completely dismissing the offense, and Malik scoffed.

“Why would I be mad?” he retorted. “If anything, I worry for your sanity. Good luck with that one.”

“Well,” Ryou said with a shrug, “I just thought because … you and my brother –”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence,” Malik warned, and Ryou's mouth closed, a small smile pulling at his lips. “There is _nothing_ between me and _him.”_

At that, Ryou laughed, but quickly quieted when Malik turned sharp look his way. He nodded.

“Okay,” Ryou said.

* * *

“The _hell_ are you doing?” Katsuya Jounouchi hissed as quietly as he could when Seto Kaiba sat himself in the chair beside his own.

“You won't give me a chance to say my piece,” Kaiba said delicately, “so I'm going to talk to you where you can't run away or dismiss me without causing a scene.”

“I'll just move,” Jounouchi said flatly, and Kaiba shrugged at him.

“I'll follow,” Kaiba said, and when Jounouchi grimaced, he added, “just let me say what I need to say.”

“Fine,” Jounouchi said stiffly and he raised a hand when Kaiba made to speak. “Not here,” he said with a wary glance to the students chatting around them. “I'll talk to you during lunch.”

“Will you,” Kaiba said doubtfully.

“Yeah,” Jounouchi challenged, “I'm a man of my word … and we still got that dumb project.”

With that, Kaiba smirked and stood from his seat. Glancing at Jounouchi, he retreated to his usual desk several places behind him.

Just then, Melvin walked into the classroom, pulling his phone out as it vibrated in his pocket. He unlocked the screen and checked the message from his brother, eyes narrowing.

 

 **From _his royal ripeness_ :**  
**ushio's gang WASTE DEM**

 

“Huh,” Melvin said to himself as he slid into his seat, the one closest to the door. He texted back and looked around as Bakura entered the corner of his vision.

 

 **To _his royal ripeness_ :**  
**are you really giving me permission.**

 

The reply was lightning fast in coming and Melvin smirked at the screen. Beside him, Bakura huffed in his chair.

 

 **From _his royal ripeness_ :**  
**dey hurt my frend. Do ur WORST**

 

“We got a job,” Melvin murmured, and Bakura straightened in his chair, turning to look at him incredulously.

“You're _talking_ to me now?” he questioned in confusion, and Melvin turned to give him a droll look.

“I don't have time to be mad at you when I've got a job to do,” he replied. “It was those little bitches from Ushio's crew. You're helping me.”

“Why the hell should I?” Bakura retorted.

“They went after Pharaoh,” Melvin said quietly, and Bakura gritted his teeth. He huffed.

“Fine,” Bakura relented, “when?”

“After school,” Melvin said. “I know where they hang.”

* * *

With his heart in his throat, Katsuya Jounouchi stared at the ticking clock on the wall. There were only a few seconds more before he and the rest of the student body were released for lunch. He was beyond nervous, chewing the skin of his bottom lip and wincing when he bit down too hard. His fingers tapped at his knees, his feet juggling on the balls of his feet. Warily, he looked around, stiffening when he noticed Seto Kaiba calmly looking at him.

“...Page fifty-five to seventy-two,” the teacher was saying. Jounouchi jumped when the teacher slapped her ruler on the board. He looked at her, and she pursed her lips. “Got that, Mr. Jounouchi?”

“Fifty-five to seventy-two?” Jounouchi babbled, and she nodded at him, pleased by his answer.

“Very good,” she said, and Jounouchi sighed with relief. “I'm glad you're paying attention. Now...”

The bell rang, and she hummed.

“Well,” she said, “time's up, students.”

The class representative gave the command then.

“Stand,” she said, and the class stood to their feet.

“Bow,” she said then, and the class all bowed for their teacher.

In unison, they said, “Thank you very much.” After receiving the bow from their teacher in return, they then began to gather their things, eager for lunch. Jounouchi, on the other hand, turned his head to look at Seto Kaiba, only to feel shivers race down his spine. Kaiba was still staring, his blue eyes unwavering. There was no doubt within Jounouchi that Kaiba fully intended to have his say.

And when he lifted his head after packing away his book, he realized he was not wrong.

Kaiba stood before his desk, watching him quietly. It unnerved Jounouchi.

“Could you not stare at me like that?” Jounouchi mumbled, unwilling to be overheard. So far, no one had noticed Kaiba's interest in Jounouchi and he intended to keep it that way. Woe befall him if word got out that Seto Kaiba had the hots for Katsuya Jounouchi. It would be the greatest scandal since Atemu's run-in with the escaped convict.

“You said we would talk during lunch,” Kaiba replied. “It is lunchtime now.”

“You don't hesitate, do you,” Jounouchi said with slight annoyance. Though if he were honest, Kaiba's straightforwardness was one of the things he so liked about him. Twisting his lips, Jounouchi grimaced to himself. “Fine,” he said, “but let's get to the library first. We're finishing that project today.”

* * *

After a silent trek through the halls, Jounouchi and Kaiba arrived at the library. There, the librarian greeted Kaiba with a friendly smile and bow of her head, which Kaiba respectfully returned with the slightest hint of a smile. The sight of it was so surprising, that Jounouchi remained in his own bow for a few seconds too long, his heart threatening to give out.

 _That's just unfair,_ Jounouchi thought, nervous sweat beading at his brow. _Damn your handsome face._

They settled in the back, away from prying eyes. Jounouchi especially wanted to remain hidden, unwilling to let them be seen or heard. He sat at the table, his back to a bookshelf, and laid his school bag before him. Before he could open it, however, a sudden realization hit him like a runaway train. He was very much alone with Seto Kaiba, completely unguarded. There was absolutely no one around to keep Kaiba in check.

 _I've made a mistake,_ Jounouchi thought. He sat up straight, nervous eyes watching as Kaiba set himself down in the seat adjacent to him. He was close enough to touch, but far enough to respect Jounouchi's personal space. And in that moment, personal space was of the utmost importance to him. Jounouchi's only hope was that Kaiba would continue to respect it.

“I want to apologize,” Kaiba said, and Jounouchi stilled.

 _Seto Kaiba … apologizing?_ Jounouchi thought, incredulous. _Am I dying?_

“You what?” Jounouchi said, baffled. An apologizing Kaiba was a first for Jounouchi. He had never known him to be sorry about anything. It was both surprising and decidedly stupefying. Jounouchi could not even process it in his head. An apology from Seto Kaiba was the most out of character action he could ever have envisioned.

And damn him to hell if it did not make his heart skip a beat.

“I want to apologize to you,” Kaiba said patiently, and Jounouchi leaned back in his chair, flabbergasted. “You were right,” Kaiba continued, keeping his blue, blue, so very _blue_ eyes on Jounouchi, “I'm a…” Kaiba hesitated momentarily, the muscles in his jaw twitching imperceptibly. “I'm a dick.” He stopped there, watching Jounouchi for a reaction. His eyes were steady and unwavering, burning Jounouchi's very heart with their intensity. He felt like cringing away, wary of the possibility of getting hurt.

The seconds slowly ticked by, accumulating into the heavy silence that descended upon their table, a quiet that went beyond the soft murmuring and whispers of pages in a library. It was loud in its presence between them, pressing and insistent, and Kaiba's brow slowly furrowed. Too long had passed without acknowledgment of his words. He opened his mouth and spoke.

“Are you going to say anything?” he asked.

“Sorry, just thought an apology would kill ya,” Jounouchi said dryly, “and look at you. You didn't burst into flames or nothing.”

“Go figure,” Kaiba muttered sarcastically, the edge of his lips begrudgingly twitching into a hint of a smile. He looked away for a moment, breathing deeply before he turned his face back to Jounouchi. The hint of a smile was gone, schooled into his usual expression of uncaring grace.

However, the look did not fool Jounouchi in the least. Because the racing heart in his chest told him Kaiba's smile had been real. It was an ounce of genuine emotion flickering across his features that Jounouchi finally got to see in years of apparent indifference. An ounce that belied the apathetic visage Kaiba proudly wore on a daily basis. An ounce for Jounouchi alone.

Jounouchi sighed to himself, flicking his gaze away from Kaiba in a desperate attempt to compose himself. Were it not for the fact that he was sitting down, Jounouchi's suddenly weak knees would have definitely been a problem. He was only barely coming to terms with this crush that had waylaid him, catching him completely off guard. It was difficult to find his feet. Everything Kaiba threw at him was unsettlingly new. _Damn you, Kaiba,_ he thought, _how dare you smile like you like me._

“Do you need a moment?” Kaiba suddenly said, and when Jounouchi looked at him with confusion, he explained. “You stopped breathing for a second there and you haven't said anything for the past couple of minutes.”

Rapidly, Jounouchi's lungs expanded in an intake of breath, soothing his aching chest. Indeed, he had stopped breathing. He bristled at the thought, offended by how obvious he was in the face of a crush he did not want. Jounouchi did not have Kaiba's self-command. He lacked that impenetrable poise that made Kaiba seem like an ethereal being, descended from outer space to rule humanity. That unbreachable quality that Jounouchi so admired but could never imitate was one of the few aspects that had drawn him to Seto Kaiba. The reminder grated at him, and the small slip of Kaiba's smile only aggressively cemented his fluttery feelings. Those graceless emotions betrayed Jounouchi, unwillingly showcased by his bleeding heart on his sleeve.

“I'm _fine,”_ Jounouchi belatedly stated, shaking his head. He stared down at his backpack, taking a moment to gain _some_ control of himself. “Look,” he said, raising his head, “I accept your apology, but that don't mean I want to go out with you now –”

“Jounouchi,” Kaiba interrupted, “all I'm asking for is a chance to prove to you that I'm not what you believe. After our … conversation –”

“You mean the one where I told you to fuck off?” Jounouchi input.

“…Yes,” Kaiba replied steadily. “That one.” He remained perfectly impassive, though there was an edge to his tone that told Jounouchi he was not pleased by the reminder. “I realized that I was going about this all wrong,” Kaiba continued. _“I_ was wrong.”

“Really?” Jounouchi asked with slight disbelief, and Kaiba nodded without missing a beat.

“I would like a second chance,” Kaiba said, his blue eyes boring into Jounouchi's. “I won't fail.”

“Kaiba, I don't know,” Jounouchi said, running distressed fingers through his golden bangs. “I don't think it's a good idea –”

Abruptly, Kaiba laid a hand over Jounouchi's where it rested upon the latch of his bag. It was surprisingly warm, Kaiba's long fingers curling around his palm.

Jounouchi startled and froze at the contact, staring with wide eyes at the pale hand that rested upon his own. After a beat, he whipped his head around and simultaneously pulled his hand away to his lap, clenching it on his knee.

“You can't just _do_ that!” Jounouchi hissed, shoulders hunching as he pushed back from the table. He calmed somewhat when he realized no one was around. “Don't just touch me like you want,” he reprimanded, his voice severely hushed. _“Boundaries,_ man.”

“I was trying to show affection,” Kaiba said plainly, “I thought you would like it.”

“Ask next time!” Jounouchi snapped hastily.

“Does that mean you're giving me a chance?” Kaiba countered. He leaned forward slightly, though he made no move to touch him again. “I really like you, Jounouchi.”

“Kaiba,” Jounouchi nervously hedged, “I _don't know.”_

“You won't regret this,” Kaiba said softly. His gaze never wavered for an instant, firm and fixed upon a fidgeting Jounouchi. “All I need is a chance to prove it.”

Jounouchi did not reply, and Kaiba spoke again.

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“I don't think you really believe that,” Jounouchi replied automatically, his head a jumbled mess. However, it did not matter if Kaiba truly believed it, because Jounouchi _did._ If he had learned anything throughout his life, it was that everyone deserved a second chance. He grit his teeth, uncomfortably reminded of his argument with Honda and the dilemma with Yuugi and his crush. He had fought one of his best friends about second chances. He himself had been given one by Yuugi that led to one of the most healthy friendships he had ever had. Denying Kaiba would make him the worst kind of hypocrite.

 _Bastard did it on purpose,_ Jounouchi thought begrudgingly, knowing fully well that it was a ridiculous thought and there was no way for Kaiba to have known about his current problems. It was purely coincidence, albeit a damned unfortunate one. Grimacing to himself, Jounouchi finally relented, letting go of his inhibitions to nod jerkily. Kaiba's head minutely perked up, and Jounouchi's cheeks flamed with sudden embarrassment.

“Yeah,” he said, “you can have a chance to prove you're not an asshole – this doesn't mean we're dating! Because we're not. If you call me names again, you can go back to being nobody to me.” He hesitated, and Kaiba remained patiently silent. “But,” Jounouchi said, “I guess we could hang out … and maybe see each other outside school.”

“Thank you,” Kaiba said, his voice so gentle that Jounouchi almost mistook it for his imagination. But when he saw that same small smile at the edge of Kaiba's lips, Jounouchi's heart skipped a beat and his cheeks burned bright. He had not misheard.

“Ok,” was all Jounouchi could reply.

* * *

Watching Jounouchi walk off with Kaiba, Honda frowned. He could see the discomfort pinching Jounouchi's face, puckering his brow. There was tension in his shoulders, hiking them up into a tight hunch. The reluctance with which Jounouchi walked made him slow and stiff. A part of Honda wanted to go after him and pull him away. However, another gnawing and growling part of him refused to care. He turned away, body rigid as he marched towards the cafeteria. Jounouchi and he were _done._ For as long as he aided Yuugi in his foolish decisions, Honda would not to speak to him.

In any case, Honda knew well that Jounouchi could take care of himself.

When he arrived in the cafeteria, his gut clenched with anger. Standing in line and waiting for food was Yuugi with his new gangster friends. Betrayal seethed through Honda's veins and he grit his teeth at the sight of Melvin. And as though sensing his acidic gaze, Melvin looked straight at him, a single eyebrow rising in question, in _challenge._ Any appetite Honda had had was gone in an instant. Foregoing the thought of food that now turned his stomach, Honda pivoted on his heel and left the cafeteria.

He was walking past the baseball field, hands shoved into his pockets and brow furrowed into a scowl when she called to him.

“Honda!”

So deep in his thoughts was he, that Honda did not hear her at first.

“Honda!” she shouted, and he finally paused, lifting his head to see Miho waving at him from the bleachers. His heart leapt. “Come!” she beckoned, and he did not hesitate. With a smile, he made his way over and stood at the bottom, looking up at her with curiosity and a little nervousness.

“Miho, what are you doing out here?” he asked. She had an open _bento_ in her lap, a plastic giraffe food pick in hand. With a pat, she indicated the spot next to her.

“Sit,” she said, and Honda did so at once.

Climbing the bleachers, Honda sat beside Miho. He peered at her lunch, noting the _onigiri_ inside with a smile. She had decorated them with seaweed to create cat faces. In fact, her food appeared to have a zoic theme, from the faces to the animal-shaped food picks in them. She plucked an octopus-shaped sausage with a pink elephant pick and offered it to him.

“Want one?” she asked, and he eagerly accepted, staring down at the black sesame seed eyes gazing up at him in monotonous stillness. As he raised it to his mouth, he paused and turned the face away from him.

“So what are you doing out here?” he asked again, happily popping the food into his mouth. He froze when he taste buds were immediately assaulted by sodium and he grimaced, lips pursing tightly as he fought to not spit it out. The sausage had been plied with too much salt. So much that Honda heavily worried for his blood pressure from simply having it in his mouth. The thought of discreetly disposing of the weenie came to him and he peeked at Miho only to find her gazing at him expectantly. Tears filled his eyes as the heavy taste began to burn his tongue, suffering silently in his unwillingness to hurt her feelings. Bracing himself, he chewed, forcing a smile of enjoyment onto his puckered lips and nodding as he hastily swallowed the offending piece of sausage.

“What do you think?” Miho asked.

“Delicious,” Honda lied.

With a bright smile, Miho took a piece of her own and placed it into her mouth. She stilled, her expression frozen for a single second before she lowered her head to hide her face, shoulders hunching tensely.

“Oh, my – it's terrible!” she squeaked, shuddering.

“No, it's great!” Honda tried to reassure her, but she shook her head profusely.

“I oversalted them!” she protested. “Something must be wrong with your taste buds if you think that was good!” She looked at him, baffled, and he winced.

“Well,” he dithered, “maybe it had a little too much salt.” Upon seeing her crestfallen expression, he quickly added, “But it's still really good!”

“You're sweet,” Miho said, smiling. “But I think next time I'll just get a school lunch instead. I have more fun decorating my food than cooking it anyway!” She laughed, shrugging her shoulders lightly. “I also miss eating with Anzu,” she said with a sigh.

“Why _aren't_ you eating with her?” Honda prodded for a third time.

“Oh,” Miho said, her lips forming a small circle. “Hmm,” she hummed, shrugging, “I didn't really feel like being around Atemu Goutei.” She shivered despite the warmth of the day and raised her hands to rub at the goosebumps that had sprouted on her arms. “So I brought my own lunch.”

“Atemu Goutei?” Honda said through his teeth. “What did he do?”

“He joined our table for lunch yesterday,” Miho explained, “and I'd rather not eat near him. He's … dangerous.”

“I understand,” Honda said lowly, “I wouldn't want to eat near him either. He's a creep.” He glanced at her, watching her nod vehemently. Honda's brow furrowed as his thoughts went to Yuugi, remembering the way he looked at Atemu as though nothing else had existed while Aizawa's prone body lay only a few meters away, his face almost too bloodied to recognize. His stomach turned to knots at the memory. He did not even know if the guy was okay. “He's got my best friend fooled,” he said, and Miho shifted beside him, attentive. “Atemu has fooled him into falling for him – he's got Yuugi thinking that he's a good guy. Hell, he's got Jounouchi fooled too! But I know better. I've seen his handiwork and I know guys like that don't change.” He clenched his hands in his lap, the pink elephant disappearing into his grip.

“I _know_ better,” Honda repeated darkly, raising his gaze to look across the empty field. “I know that creep will hurt my best friends … and I'm going to hate myself if I don't stop it.” Quickly, he turned to her, his face lighting up with an idea. “Hold up, I just had the best idea,” he said, “you don't like Atemu either, right?” But instead of waiting for her reply, Honda went on. “You can help me help Yuugi,” he whispered excitedly, glancing around their deserted surroundings for eavesdroppers. “We can break them up!”

“Break them up?” Miho said skeptically. “Yuugi and Atemu?”

“Yes!” Honda eagerly continued. “Together I'm sure we can make Yuugi see that he's completely wrong about Atemu!”

“Honda,” she said. She frowned to herself, unsure.

“What is it?” Honda asked.

“I just remembered, ” Miho said quietly, “I saw them at Burger World when I was working.” Her expression turned thoughtful and her eyes shifted to the side. “They were on a date and they looked pretty cozy together.” She puffed her cheeks unwittingly, deep in thought before suddenly letting out the air. “I even saw Atemu Goutei smile.” She herself smiled absently, but it was bewildered, and she shrugged her shoulders slightly. “It was surprisingly nice. I think he really enjoyed being there with Yuugi, but I was too scared to notice at the time.”

“Miho,” Honda said, his face tight and his stomach knotting itself with apprehension. “What are you saying?”

“I don't think we should meddle,” Miho said truthfully. “Their relationship is none of our business.”

“What about Yuugi?” Honda demanded, his voice rising the slightest bit. Though it was not inherently loud, his tone caused Miho's eyes to widen. She leaned away and Honda grit his teeth. “As his best friend, I need to save him. We can't leave him in Atemu's clutches – you agreed that he was dangerous!”

“Honda,” Miho said gently, “I did agree, but –”

“But?” Honda said sharply. “How can there be a 'but'? You've witnessed his evil firsthand! You know he's not good person – I remember you said you couldn't sleep for a month after what happened!”

“I admit it,” Miho said, “he's scary. I'm terrified of Atemu Goutei. I agree that he should be escorted by police so they can keep an eye on him – I even still have nightmares about him sometimes. But...” She became quiet for the few seconds it took her to breathe deeply. From her lap, she removed the _bento_ and set it down beside her, out of the way. She then looked to Honda and said in a whisper, “He saved my best friend's life. It was a horror show – what happened in Burger World, but if not for the terror that he is, if not for him and his lack of fear, Anzu would …” She trailed off, biting her lip. A shudder stole through her body, and she grew smaller, her shoulders hunching in a cringe. “She was there because of me. Because I suggested it when she said she wanted to raise money for her dream. Anzu wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for him.” She looked at Honda, and he was startled by the unshed tears clinging to her eyes. “He might be crazy and scary, but he saved her life, and for that I'll always be grateful to him.” She shrugged tentatively. “Who knows?” she said. “Maybe underneath all that horror is a good guy. I'm too scared to find out, but, Honda.” She looked at him with a disbelieving crease in her brow. “I told Yuugi about _that_ day and I tried to make him run away, but he insisted that Atemu wasn't a bad guy. If Yuugi thinks there's some good in him that we're not seeing? I'm prepared to trust it even if my knees shake when I'm near that guy. Because he saved my best friend … there must be _something_ good in him for him to do that.

“And Honda?” she continued softly. “If you can't trust your best friend to make his own choices, then maybe you're not being such a good friend.” With that, she stood and sighed as she packed up her lunch. “I think I owe it to Yuugi and Anzu to try and be around Atemu if they both want to be his friends.” She tossed him a wan smile. “I'm going to eat inside!” Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her bag and hopped down the bleachers, leaving Honda dumbfounded and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love and courage. Friendship is made of love and courage, guys. ♡
> 
> If you've gotten this far, please consider hitting that Kudos button if you haven't already. And after that, hit me up in that comment section. Let me know your beautiful thoughts. See ya in **[Morality, Dost Thou Hear Me?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8424178)** Xoxoxoxo


	26. Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a palpable tension during lunch, but the only one who seems to feel it is Yuugi. After school, the elder brothers stay behind, leaving the underclassmen to venture to the Ishtar home on their own. (Un)fortunately for Atemu, Yuugi is coming to visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A break from all the angst I've been writing. Have a(nother) chapter filled with friendship and awkward teenagers.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Beeples (@Jennieleeb) on twitter! Congrats on your graduation! ♡

Silence was definitively not golden.

Lunch was a painful affair with Yuugi's two notably missing friends. Honda, for obvious reasons, had never shown up, but Yuugi had not expected Jounouchi to do the same. He sat there, in an extremely uncomfortable quiet, waiting for his fair-haired friend to appear and break the stifling tension between Malik, Bakura, and what now seemed to include Melvin as well.

Bakura would not touch his food, Malik would only play with it, and Melvin devoured everything in sight without his usual quips to Bakura. Yuugi did not completely understand what was going on with the three of them. As far as he knew, Malik and Bakura's relationship problems did not include Melvin. However, Yuugi could feel there was a distinct wall erected between Bakura and Melvin. They avoided each other's eyes, gazing at their trays in irrefutable restraint. Gone was the boisterous, almost brother-like camaraderie Yuugi had come to expect from them.

The sullen reserve that had overtaken the three would have been bearable to Yuugi, if only Ryou had not joined them. Ryou was a temple of quiescence, pacing his bites as though he had all the time in the world. His movements were slow and deliberate, and his eyes, like Bakura's, never left his tray.

Yuugi suspected that Malik's earlier comment about Ryou's “doe eyes” had much to do with his tightlipped demeanor and refusal to look at Melvin or anywhere near the guy. But with Ryou, Yuugi's last comforting lifeline had been snipped, and he was left adrift in a silent group. The combined solemnity seemed even louder in comparison to the happy chatter in the rest of the cafeteria, and Yuugi felt all the more isolated for it.

It was awkward, and there was still no sign of Jounouchi.

The double doors at the far side of the cafeteria opened and Yuugi looked up to see Miho enter in a skip. She looked bright as always and strangely determined. He watched her quickly grab lunch and head over to Anzu and Vivian's table. The two girls had greeted Yuugi and his group while in line for lunch, but had neglected to sit with them.

Yuugi suspected that his table with the two pairs of brothers, Atemu, and recently himself and his two friends, was far too full for their liking.

Miho sat with Vivian and Anzu, greeting them happily. She pushed her bento their way, and Anzu placed it at the edge of the table without a word as Miho seated herself comfortably. As soon as she was settled, Miho's gaze swiveled to Yuugi's table and their eyes met.

Yuugi waved, tempted to take cover with them so he would no longer have to endure the silence. However, as Miho waved back, Yuugi felt far too self-conscious to move. Any movement he made could get the group's attention, like motion detectors. He did not especially enjoy the thought of being caught by four particular pairs of eyes as he tried slink away.

Albeit Miho's attention left him as abruptly as it had come and Yuugi's small sense of comfort drained away with it. He subtly glanced around at the four surrounding him. They continued to sit like four monks in the midst of a vow of silence.

It was still awkward.

It made Yuugi long for Atemu's company.

At least with Atemu, Yuugi was quite sure the reticence of the group would have gone over his head. If anything, Atemu's smiles would have been enough to distract Yuugi from any discomfort around him. But as it was, Atemu was not available. He was indisposed _somewhere,_ unable to leave due to injuries he had sworn were “nothing”. With a bite to the inside of his cheek, Yuugi recalled Atemu's carefree smile the night before and an earnest promise.

 

 _“I'll be okay,”_ Atemu had said, _“you go on. I'll see you tomorrow.”_

Atemu had swept Yuugi's bangs from his face, brushing the pad of his thumb over Yuugi's cheekbone in a shiver-inducing caress.

_“Promise.”_

 

Fidgeting in his seat between Ryou and Bakura, Yuugi felt his cheeks burn. The edges of his lips quirked upwards and he sighed wistfully, leaning his cheek into his hand and bracing his elbow on the table. He decided he would not let Atemu break his promise as he poked at his food. It took two to make a relationship work, and Yuugi was going to do his part. If Atemu could not come to him, it was up to Yuugi to meet him halfway and go to him.

Perfectly distracted from the brewing stew of teenage drama at the table, Yuugi smiled to himself and placed a piece of boiled cabbage in his mouth. He could not wait to see Atemu.

* * *

The prospect of seeing Atemu drove Yuugi's excitement through the roof. That distracting giddiness was enough to power him through the rest of the day. So when Yuugi was finally released from his final class, he could barely contain himself when he asked Ryou for his phone.

“Please!” Yuugi shouted as they left the classroom. “To call my mom!”

“Yuugi, _breathe,”_ Ryou implored, wincing and waving his hands in a calming manner. He stepped forward as a several students shoved by. “Let's get out of the hallway first.” He grabbed Yuugi and pulled him out of the way as another wave of students swept by, nearly separating them. Thankfully, Ryou scraped by, pressing himself to Yuugi's side and shuffling him along. They arrived in the locker room in one piece before they were suddenly blindsided by an irate Malik.

“You left me behind!”

“Sorry!” Yuugi said, clapping his hands together and bowing his head. “I just need to call my mom before I can go to your house – I can still go to your house to visit Atemu, right?” He lifted his head, settling his nervous gaze on Malik.

“Yeah, yeah,” Malik huffed. “It's fine.” He turned away and shrugged nonchalantly.

“It's okay with your … family?” Yuugi tentatively asked, and Malik nodded without hesitation.

“Yeah, it's fine,” Malik repeated, but Yuugi was already turning to Ryou, hands outstretched and body refraining from wiggling in anticipation.

“Here, here,” Ryou said with an exasperated smile, placing his phone into Yuugi's hands.

“Thank you so much!” Yuugi said, and he wasted no time in dialing his mother. “I'm gonna go change my shoes!” He sped away, almost skipping in his glee.

Laughing, Ryou headed to his locker with Malik beside him.

“He's so excited,” Ryou commented, a fond sparkle in his eyes.

“Sheesh,” Malik scoffed. “You can say that again. I wouldn't be so excited to see Atemu.” He grimaced.

“Again,” Ryou said patiently, “you're his cousin. You don't like him that way. And truth be told, you probably wouldn't be that excited for someone you _did_ like. It's just not you.” He changed his shoes in silence, focusing on his feet rather than Malik's reaction. But when the chatter from the other departing students was all Ryou could hear, he looked up.

Malik's usual pinched expression of disdain had evaporated. The emotion plastered onto his features could only be described as mild shock. Though his mouth remained closed, Malik's jaw had slackened and his eyes had widened imperceptibly. There was a strange crease to his brow, and if Ryou knew his friend, he would say it looked like Malik was upset.

But as soon as he saw it, it was gone, and Malik snorted derisively.

“I'm gonna go get my shoes,” he said, waving. “Meet you at the door?” However, Malik did not wait before he swaggered off in the direction of his own locker.

“She said yes! She said yes!”

Yuugi skidded to Ryou's side, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He held out Ryou's phone with a happy grin piercing his cheeks.

“I can go see Atemu,” Yuugi said breathlessly. His cheeks were flushed with pink and his hands were trembling as he held out Ryou's phone. “Where's Malik?” Yuugi asked, glancing around before looking at Ryou and noting his somber demeanor. Some of his happiness drained away as concern slowly took over. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine!” Ryou replied brightly, taking the phone back. “So what are you going to do when you see Atemu?”

Immediately, the concern on Yuugi's face transformed into embarrassment, and the red in his cheeks grew luminous.

“I … don't know,” Yuugi admitted shyly.

“You don't know?” Ryou teased. “How about planting a big kiss on him?”

“Maybe,” Yuugi chuckled nervously, shyly averting his eyes.

“Or,” Ryou said. He nudged Yuugi with his elbow, winking playfully at him. “You could pamper him and do a little _cuddling,_ if you catch my drift.” He waited until comprehension dawned on Yuugi's face to smile wide. “I bet that would _definitely_ make his day.”

 _“Ryou,”_ Yuugi muttered urgently, glancing around with a scandalized look. “We're not _there_ yet.”

“Do you _want_ to be there?” Ryou coyly replied. He waited, watching Yuugi struggle with his answer before he dropped the teasing and placed his hand on Yuugi's shoulder. Squeezing gently, he said, “You do what you're comfortable with. Be honest with Atemu and I'm sure he'll respect your boundaries.” Yuugi looked at him, and Ryou saw the insecurity residing in his eyes. “I don't think Atemu will ever want to make you feel uncomfortable, Yuugi,” Ryou said softly. “He cares about you in a way that I've never seen with him before. Don't worry and just take it as slow as you want.”

“You think?” Yuugi asked, and Ryou nodded.

“Sure,” he said. “Come on. Malik's waiting, and I'm sure Atemu is hoping you'll visit.”

Together, they made their way to the front door, Ryou tapping at his phone as he went.

As they neared the entrance, the room grew warmer, the entrance of the building overtaken by the heat of the day with its open doors. They soon found Malik loitering just inside, looking exasperated and hot, temple visibly throbbing. He was rolling his eyes, flicking his hair as he subtly stuck out his middle finger.

Following its trail, Yuugi noted a group of three boys approaching the exit. One was mockingly twirling his hair, another had both arms raised, his wrists limp as he exaggeratedly tiptoed past. They were guffawing loudly, nudging each other as they covertly motioned to Malik.

Yuugi finally understood when the third curled his hand and motioned toward his mouth, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. At the offensive gesture, Yuugi rushed to Malik's side and glared at the group, never mind that he was shorter than all of them and likely would not come out on top in a fight. Frankly, Yuugi knew with his scrawny body and lack of skill, he would be fucked if they decided to engage. So when they eyed him, he felt a distinct chill of fear stiffen his back.

With a smirk, the tallest of them nudged the others before using both hands to poke a finger into a circle he formed with his forefinger and thumb.

They laughed, and Yuugi seethed, watching as they left.

“Ignore them,” said Ryou from behind, and Yuugi looked at him in absolute bafflement.

“Didn't you see what they were doing?” Yuugi whispered indignantly. “They were –”

“We know what they were doing,” Malik said, and he sounded bored. Sure enough, when Yuugi turned his gaze onto him, he saw that Malik had relaxed from his initial aggravation. He looked unperturbed, perfectly unfettered by negative emotions in the face of puerile acts. “They're assholes,” Malik said, disinterested. “They only act like that when Melvin's not around.”

“Why?” Yuugi asked.

“Because Melvin and my brother beat the crud out of them two years ago when they jumped Malik,” Ryou said plainly, and Malik shrugged, his lip curling in distaste at the memory.

“They're too chicken to try anything, so why bother?” Malik said with a shrug. One glance was enough to tell Yuugi that his question was rhetorical.

“But why do they do that?” Yuugi asked, confused. “Why are they so mean to you?”

“You think I did something to provoke them?” Malik asked, but there was no malice in his words. He appeared genuinely interested in Yuugi's answer.

Yuugi had immediately begun to shake his head, but he paused and sighed.

“Bullies don't need an excuse to be bullies,” he said, and Malik exhaled loudly.

“Why do you think Ryou's my only friend?” he said. “Did you really think Melvin was scaring them _all_ away?” He laughed. “I wouldn't blame you if you thought that,” he said and shrugged. “All the guys – they see my eyeliner and jewelry, and they see someone too different from them. They don't want to be seen with me. Close-minded jerks, all of them.”

“I understand,” Yuugi said then. He reached out and placed a hand on Malik's forearm. Malik looked down at him, his brow furrowing, and let his hand unclench from the fierce grip he had not realized he had been doing. “Everyone thinks, that because I'm small and skinny, that I'm weak,” Yuugi said softly, lowering his gaze. “I mean, it's true that I'm not very strong or athletic, but I understand what it's like to be judged by the way you look.” He shrugged and looked up into Malik's pinched expression, but rather than his usual haughty look, Yuugi saw restraint and a tremble at his lip. He understood that Malik was hiding his true feelings. “I don't mind what you wear,” Yuugi said. “You've been a good friend to me and that's all that matters.”

“Yuugi, you're the kindest person I've ever met,” Ryou said, his tone heartfelt, and Yuugi blushed. He made to drop the hand from Malik's arm, but Malik patted his hand, holding it for the briefest moment. He let go immediately afterwards.

“Thanks, Yuugi,” Malik said before abruptly clearing his throat and glancing around. “Where the hell is Melvin?”

“I don't know,” Ryou said, tossing Malik a knowing look before he too began to search. He waved a hand at his face, uncomfortable with the heat, and sighed wistfully. “I don't see him, and I already messaged Touzoku. He's not replying.” He briefly checked his phone and peered at Malik. “Have you texted Melvin?”

“Oh, go ahead,” Malik scoffed. “We both know you're dying to message him.”

“I'm not _dying,”_ Ryou muttered, but he was already typing out a message. “There. Sent.”

“Desperate much?” Malik sneered, and Ryou easily shrugged.

“At least I have the guts to own up to my feelings,” Ryou shot back, and Malik pursed his lips. There was no reply, and by the triumphant smile Ryou sported and sour expression on Malik's face, it was obvious who had won.

Hunching his shoulders, Yuugi clamped his lips shut and subtly stepped away. Neither Ryou or Malik noticed, and for that Yuugi was glad. It was best to say nothing at all as he did not desire to be within firing range of that sass.

“If you were really owning up to your feelings, you'd tell Melvin,” Malik finally hissed, and Yuugi's eyes widened as he looked at his feuding friends. Ryou was staring at Malik in cautious disbelief.

“You wouldn't,” Ryou said in a deadpan, his shock palpable.

“Try me,” Malik taunted, but before either of them could make another move, a familiar voice interrupted their challenge.

“You guys still here?”

All three whipped their heads around to see Melvin and Bakura headed their way with leisure, hands in their pockets.

Ryou fidgeted nervously, and Yuugi subtly stepped closer to Malik, the morning's events still fresh in his mind.

Melvin had ridded himself of his jacket and placed it over his arm, the sleeves of his pale, salmon-colored dress shirt rolled up over his elbows. Bakura on the other hand, had draped his school jacket over his shoulders like a cape and shoved his white sleeves up over his forearms.

“Well, _duh,”_ Malik said, dropping the previous topic. He crossed his arms, staring at his brother with narrowed eyes. Beside him, Yuugi began to scan the surrounding students, his brow furrowed.

“We always walk home together,” Ryou voiced, and Melvin glanced at him, nodding with a twist to his lips as though Ryou had made a fair point.

“Change of plans,” Bakura said as they came to a stop beside Yuugi who was still looking through the passing students.

“We have a, uh,” Melvin snorted a laugh, unable to hold it, _“extracurricular_ activity.” Yuugi glanced at him as he grinned, and it struck Yuugi that both Ishtar brothers had the same sneer. He looked away, resuming his search.

“What kind of _activity?”_ Malik asked, suspicion littering his careful syllables.

“You don't remember?” Melvin said pointedly. “I told you about it this morning. You said you were fine with it.”

“Oh,” Malik said after a second of thought, “right. Well, don't let us keep you. We're gonna take Yuugi to see Atemu –”

“Of _course,”_ Bakura muttered under his breath, and Malik paused to look at him, eyes sharp but hesitant.

“Yeah,” Malik said, and there was no missing the glance Bakura cast him. It was brief and guarded, but the small action was enough to ease some of the tension in Malik's shoulders. When Bakura looked away, Malik let loose a silent sigh and redirected his attention to his nails as if nothing had transpired.

“Good, he'll like that,” Melvin said, and Malik jerked out of the moment, his back stiffening. “Don't let him out,” Melvin added. “He needs bed rest.”

“Right,” Malik said in a drawl. “What am I, his owner?” He waved a careless hand. “Fine, whatever. Have fun.” He risked a peek at Bakura, but Bakura was decidedly not looking, concentrating his gaze on the wall of lockers behind him instead. Disappointment flickered in Malik's eyes before he blinked it away. Averting his gaze, Malik set his jaw.

“Don't talk to strangers,” Melvin said in lieu of a goodbye, and Malik nodded.

“Make some friends,” Malik easily returned, refusing to look back at Bakura as he departed. “Come on, Yuugi. You don't want to keep Atemu waiting do you?”

“Um,” Yuugi said as he glanced around anxiously. After a moment, he gave up and sighed. “Wait up!” Yuugi called as he rushed after Malik, jogging to catch up to Malik's longer strides.

“Be careful,” Ryou said before he took off after them. He looked back at his brother and Melvin as he walked, concern in his eyes. He did not know what they had planned, but he would find out from Malik soon enough.

* * *

On their walk to the Ishtar home, Malik discarded his school jacket, literally. At the point of perspiration, he wiggled out if it in his discomfort and tossed it aside, bringing a gasp to Yuugi's lips. He continued on, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and Ryou was quick to pick it up, patting the dirt from it. As Malik meticulously began folding the cuffs back, Ryou huffed.

“Your sister will kill you if you lose this, you know,” Ryou sighed, wiping the sweat from his eyes and peering up through squinted eyes at the vast blue sky and unforgiving sun. That fiery ball beat down on them in cruel waves, like a blow-dryer on high, making the sidewalk sizzle around them. Ryou wiped his brow again, breathing heavily. “They're not cheap, Malik.” With a grimace, he shuffled out of his own jacket, revealing the light blue short-sleeve underneath.

“Alright, _Ishizu,_ get off my back,” Malik snapped, irritated by the heat of the day. “It's _October,_ why is it still so _hot!”_

“Global warming,” Ryou replied.

Boiling in his own jacket, Yuugi also needed a break from the oppressive heat, and he glanced around. It did not take long to spot the flower shop beside them, and he brightened with hope.

“How about we cool off for a bit in here?” Yuugi suggested quietly, unsure of Malik's mood or how far they were from Malik's house.

“Hmm?” Malik said, turning his head to look at the store. “A flower shop?”

“What a great idea!” Ryou said in relief. “They've got air conditioning!” When he noticed Malik's dubious expression, he grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door. “Come on, let's take a break. It's like ten more minutes to your place, _I'm_ dying, and Yuugi's face is redder than a tomato.”

Yuugi felt so hot that he could not even blush at the remark. He shifted uncomfortably as Malik looked at him, embarrassed at appearing so frail.

“Sheesh, Yuugi,” Malik said, “you should've said something! Let's go in. It's hot as hell.” He reached back and grabbed Yuugi by his collar, tugging him along. They entered the store in a bundle, letting out three identical sighs of shoulder-dropping relief when the blast of chilled air struck them.

“Welcome!” the woman behind the cashier register greeted, bowing, and the boys bowed their heads as Malik replied.

“We're just going to look around,” he said.

“Please let me know if you need anything,” she replied, and they all nodded as they moved down the aisle of beautiful arrangements.

“Maybe we should get something small,” Yuugi whispered, feeling guilty for his free enjoyment of the cool air. He spotted the rack of greeting cards then, reaching out for one. “'Get well soon',” Yuugi read aloud and an image of Atemu's injured face came to mind.

 _Would Atemu like a Get Well card?_ Yuugi asked himself.

“Oh, I see,” Ryou whispered back, a slow smile pulling at his lips. “You want to get something for Atemu! That's so sweet!” Ryou nudged Yuugi's shoulder, a soft affection in his eyes. “I'm sure he'll love anything you give him.”

“You think?” Yuugi asked, unsure, and Malik sighed.

“Why bother with a card?” he asked with a grimace. “Get him jewelry. I would _love_ to get jewelry.” He touched his gold-plated bangles. “Gold is expensive.”

“Atemu isn't you,” Ryou groaned.

“What _would_ Atemu like?” Yuugi asked tentatively, and Malik exhaled loudly.

“Jewelry!” he said firmly. “He doesn't wear nearly enough. Maybe an armlet.” He touched his bicep. “I think it would look good on him.”

“That's the nicest thing you've ever said about him,” Ryou laughed, and Malik rolled his eyes. Shaking his head, Ryou hummed. “Truthfully?” he said to Yuugi, “I don't think he likes much of anything. Only thing he's ever shown interest in is video games when he's playing with Touzoku and kicking his ass – Atemu's _really_ good.” As an afterthought, he hummed and said, “Touzoku's pretty bitter about it.”

A memory came to Yuugi, a shy admission from Atemu about a certain card game. He smiled to himself.

“Games,” he murmured and Ryou nudged him in the ribs with an elbow.

“Yeah, he definitely likes _you,”_ Ryou teased, and Yuugi blushed. “Your parents must have really liked games to name you Yuugi.”

“It was my grandpa who named me, actually,” Yuugi mumbled, and Malik sighed.

“Get him some flowers,” he said. “The bright colors might cheer him up. Everything at my house is some kind of brown because Ishizu is colorblind and says it doesn't really matter either way because it's furniture –”

“Flowers sound great,” Ryou interrupted before Malik's tangent could get out of hand. “Why don't you pick some flowers?”

“Which ones?” Yuugi asked as he turned to the shelf behind him.

“Definitely not _these,”_ Ryou said as he gawked at the prices.

“Cheaper ones should be at the back if the expensive ones are at the front,” Malik said, and he began to lead the way. Ryou and Yuugi followed, the latter lagging behind when he noticed the rows of stuffed animals.

He browsed, idly aware that Ryou and Malik had moved on. He plucked a teddy bear from the shelf. It was large with a stuffed heart attached to its paws.

“Maybe not,” Yuugi muttered and set the fluffy white bear back onto the shelf. He walked away, intending to catch up to his friends when a small stuffed creature caught his eye. Pausing, Yuugi crouched, reaching out to the bottom shelf. He took a small maned lion and gazed at it pensively. It was slightly larger than his hand, and did not it have an excessive heart attached to it. Yuugi spotted its paws and noted that the dots of its toes were light coffee-colored hearts. He smiled. Atemu had seen his plush toys from _Duel Monsters_ , and he had not sneered at Yuugi for owning them.

 _Will Atemu like it?_ Yuugi thought. He imagined Atemu receiving it, smiling as he accepted it.

“Yuugi!”

Turning at the sound, Yuugi spotted Ryou at the end of the aisle, waving at him.

“Come!” Ryou said. “We found some flowers for good prices.”

“Coming!” Yuugi called. He clutched the lion to his side as he hurried to his friend, following as Ryou led him to the back of the store where the flowers were less extravagant and the patterns haphazard. One sign indicated that trainees had made them. Yuugi looked at the rack of bouquets, searching for something uncomplicated.

“How about these?” Ryou asked, prodding a yellow, five-petal rose as he pointed to his choice.

“Yellow roses mean jealousy,” Malik said. “Pink or red would be better.”

Yuugi and Ryou stared at him, and Malik flipped his hair with a grimace.

“What?” he challenged. “I know stuff!” He shrugged and looked at Yuugi with a squint. “Maybe you should stick with pink and white,” he said. “Red might be too soon.”

“I like these,” Yuugi said, pointing to a small bouquet of pink roses, white daisies, and small yellow chrysanthemums. He took them, giving Malik an uneasy glance, but Malik merely nodded his approval. With a smile, Yuugi examined his flowers, proud of his choice. He knew nothing of flower meanings, and he was grateful to have Malik as a friend.

“I'm sure Atemu will be delighted,” Ryou said and Malik shrugged. He did not seem very interested either way. “Let's pay and go,” he said. “No one is red anymore and Atemu's probably getting suspicious that no one's home yet.”

“He's probably hungry too,” Malik said suddenly, and a minuscule amount of horror sparked in his lavender eyes, “because he doesn't know how to work a stove. Let's go before he burns my whole neighborhood down.” He gave Yuugi a small push to the register, and Yuugi went. On his way, however, he noted the fridges lining the wall and he gazed at the flowers and corsages. It was when he saw the on sale items that he paused.

“Wait,” he said, pointing, “I'll take that too.”

Malik did not give Yuugi a chance to even slow. Pushing him forward, he said, “I'll get it, keep going.” So Yuugi continued on, frog-marching his way to the register where he set down the lion and his bouquet.

“For someone special?” the woman smiled.

Blushing, Yuugi nodded and ducked his chin.

“Yes,” he replied as he took out his wallet. “Very special.”

* * *

Malik, Yuugi, and Ryou arrived at the Ishtar residence in a matter of seven minutes, rushed there by Malik's unrelenting belief that Atemu had caused a catastrophe. He was utterly convinced that he would find the place in ruins, only slightly appeased to find the outside intact and no smoke in the sky.

“My sister will murder us if he destroyed the kitchen,” Malik was mumbling. “Oh, my god, it's like having an untrained dog!”

“You're being a little harsh, Malik,” Ryou said pointedly, wiping his brow of sweat and subtly tilting his head in Yuugi's direction.

Malik was unlocking the door, frowning at Ryou in confusion. He looked at Yuugi who was panting from the race there, but was completely nonplussed, and shrugged.

“What?” Malik asked. “Do you have any idea how annoying it is to have to live with him? He whines _all the time.”_

“Malik!” Ryou admonished. “Yuugi,” he mouthed silently.

“What!” Malik said, unlocking the door without looking.

“Yuugi is right here,” Ryou hissed as Malik walked in, discarding his shoes.

“I know,” Malik said like one stating the obvious, “I invited him.”

“It's okay,” Yuugi told Ryou with a wan smile, waiting for Ryou to go in before stepping inside himself. He looked at the items in his arms and frowned as he looked at the open door where the heat was billowing in. “That's how family is, right?”

“Yeah,” Ryou laughed and reached around him to shut the door. He sighed in relief at the cooler atmosphere of Malik's home. Though the air was still, it was not unbearably hot. “Can't live with them, can't live without them.”

“I could,” Malik snorted, already in his slippers. Yuugi and Ryou removed their shoes as well, placing them in the rack before padding into the quiet living room with Malik in the lead. “Atemu?” Malik called when it became apparent that Atemu was not in either the kitchen or the living room.

“See?” Ryou said brightly. “Everything is fine. No fire. No mess.”

“He's in Melvin's room,” Malik said, choosing to ignore Ryou's comment and turning to look at Yuugi who was fanning his red face, “Ryou can show you the way.”

“Are you insinuating something?” Ryou asked, and Malik nodded.

“Yes,” he said shamelessly, and Ryou rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Yuugi,” Ryou said as he began to climb the stairs. He paused on the third step, looking back at Malik. “You're not coming?”

“I'm gonna text Melvin that we're here,” Malik said, pulling out his phone and tossing himself onto the sofa.

Shrugging, Ryou motioned to Yuugi and led the way up the square staircase.

“Where are his siblings?” Yuugi asked in confusion. “Are they not home yet?”

“They're in Egypt,” Ryou replied, and Yuugi nodded, though his brow furrowed.

“Is it really okay for us to be here when they're not here?” Yuugi asked, and Ryou hummed.

“They trust Melvin and Malik,” he replied. On the landing, he pulled Yuugi down the hall to a closed door and smiled at him before knocking.

There was no answer.

Frowning, Ryou knocked again.

“Atemu?” Ryou said. “It's me, Ryou. Yuugi's here too. Can we come in?” He waited for a reply, Yuugi suddenly shifting excitedly beside him. But when there was no response, they looked at each other, and Yuugi paused in his fidgeting, befuddled. “Atemu?” Ryou said, his voice louder. He touched the doorknob, turning it to find it unlocked. Pushing the door open, he peeked inside with Yuugi hovering over his shoulder. “He's –”

“Asleep,” Yuugi finished for him.

Ryou let the door swing open. Inside the dark room, a figure could be seen on the bed, covered in a comforter and snoring softly. There was a tall rotating fan blowing air about the room, the hum of it filler between snores. It was very clear that Atemu was asleep.

“Should we wake him?” Ryou whispered.

“I … don't think we should,” Yuugi said hesitantly.

“Don't you want to talk to him?” Ryou asked.

“But he's injured,” Yuugi said anxiously. “And Malik said he needed bed rest. Maybe we should let him sleep.”

“Oh, my god, you babies!” came the loud voice of Malik.

Yuugi and Ryou were instantly pushed aside as Malik barged past them into the room. He switched on the light as he went, placing himself at the foot of the bed.

“Wake up, Atemu!” he said. “Yuugi's here to see you!”

“Malik!” Yuugi fretted, barely hanging onto the gifts in his arms, and Ryou sighed.

“Come on!” Malik snapped, and he reached out both arms, gripping the end of the comforter. With a solid yank, he ripped the comforter away, tossing it to the ground. An unintelligible mumble answered him, and a brown hand searched aimlessly for the comforter. When it could not find the cloth, it dropped to the bed in defeat, and Atemu groaned.

“Go away,” he moaned, his voice muffled, and without the comforter, they could all see that Atemu had a pillow covering his face. “I'm sleeping.”

“Did you sleep _all day?”_ Malik asked in disgust. “Get _up,_ Yuugi's here.”

“Yuugi,” Atemu mumbled, but it was apparent by the toneless parroting that Malik's words had not registered at all.

“Yuugi!” Malik repeated with exasperation. He turned to cast a dubious look at Yuugi as if to say, _“Are you sure about him?”_

“Yuugi?” Atemu said, and the sudden sharp quality was filled with lucidity. He sat up, pillow falling from his head to his lap with a soft plop.

A strangled noise left Malik, and behind him, Ryou gasped audibly. Covered in gauze, bandaids, and butterfly stiches, Atemu's face was swollen and the area around the bandages was mottled with red and purple. It was a disquieting sight. However, Yuugi showed no reaction and approached the bed with a shy smile.

“Hi, Atemu,” Yuugi said, and Atemu's eyes widened.

Instantly, he lied back down and pulled the pillow over his face.

“Don't look at me,” Atemu bemoaned, “I'm _ugly.”_

“Got that right,” Malik said, not bothering to lower his voice.

“Malik,” Ryou sighed, shaking his head. He came forward and pulled him back by his arm. “Come on, they don't need your comments.”

 _“Everyone_ needs my comments,” Malik argued, but he went without a fuss. They left the door open, and both Atemu and Yuugi could hear Malik go on in the hall. “How else are people going to improve themselves?”

In the room, Yuugi shifted uneasily on his feet, gazing down at the gifts in his arms with doubt. Standing before Atemu, he was no longer sure how they would be received. He chewed on his bottom lip, gulping dryly.

“Can I sit?” Yuugi asked, and Atemu let out a despairing sigh.

“Go ahead,” Atemu said miserably, waving a hand beside him. “I'm glad you came.”

He did not sound it, and it made Yuugi's heart sink.

“I already know you're injured,” Yuugi said as he made his way around the bed. “You don't have to hide your face.”

“I'm hideous,” Atemu said flatly, and Yuugi sat on the edge. “Get me a paper bag.”

“Atemu,” Yuugi said, and an amused smile threatened to split his lips, “I don't care what you look like.” He set the cake on the bedside table, the plastic surrounding the flowers crinkling with his movement. He held out the lion and nudged Atemu's hand. “I brought you 'get well' gifts,” he said, but his voice was barely audible, muted with bashful uncertainty.

With his other hand, Atemu lifted the edge of the pillow, clearly peeking at the stuffed animal touching the back of his hand. He took it gently, bringing it closer to the small opening he had created. There was a moment of silence, and then a soft chuckle.

“I love it,” Atemu said, and he slowly sat up, letting the pillow fall away and grunting when his side pained him. He pushed himself up with one arm, his other gripping his side. Once up, he hunched as he gazed at the lion, obvious happiness etched in the bruises on his face.

When Yuugi noticed the odd way he sat, he grabbed the discarded pillow and leaned, placing it carefully behind him.

“Thank you,” Atemu said, leaning back comfortably. He sighed gratefully and gazed at Yuugi in pure contentment. “I wish someone had told me you were coming,” he said regretfully as he ran a hand through his wayward red locks. “I would have brushed my hair at least.” He rubbed his eyes with one hand and blinked slowly, undoubtedly still trying to overcome his drowsiness.

“I like your hair,” Yuugi admitted, and he was not lying. As wild and unruly as Atemu's hair looked at that moment, Yuugi liked it. Embarrassed, he looked down, but at the sight of the flowers, he was stalled with hesitation.

“Are those for me?” Atemu asked, and Yuugi's heart skipped a beat as he nodded. He held them out, raising his gaze to see Atemu's delighted smile.

“Thank you, Yuugi,” he said, and an embarrassed laugh left him. “You didn't have to get me anything … these are pretty.” He touched the petals and Yuugi finally saw the splints on his fingers.

“Your hand,” Yuugi whispered, his gut twisting.

“It's nothing,” Atemu said, waving it. He presented it to Yuugi. “See? I'm fine.” He wiggled his fingers, but Yuugi saw the wince Atemu tried to hide. He said nothing of it, though his heart clenched in his chest. “They'll be good as new within the month,” Atemu said with a reassuring grin that was hindered by his split lip.

Seeing Atemu so obviously in pain made Yuugi ache. His stomach squirmed with guilt. If not for him, Atemu would not be bedridden.

“It's not your fault,” Atemu said as if reading his mind. Yuugi looked at him. Atemu was serious, his eyes adamant, and Yuugi realized there must have been something in his face for Atemu to discern his thoughts.

“I don't think –” Yuugi tried to deny, but Atemu shook his head.

“Yeah, you were,” he said. “It's all over your face, little one.” As Yuugi's heart skipped another beat, Atemu frowned, looking down to his lap and sighing. “I went looking for trouble on my own,” he said. “It's not your fault. I didn't have to beat up Ushio. That's on me. Not you – never you.”

“You beat him up _for_ me,” Yuugi said stubbornly.

“And that was _my_ choice,” Atemu said firmly, meeting Yuugi's gaze head on. He grimaced. “I think I prefer having you mad at me. I don't like this.” He sighed again, laying the flowers across his lap and staring at them. His gaze hardened. “Don't take responsibility for my actions,” he said. “They're mine. I made them. Hold me accountable.”

“You want me to be mad at you?” Yuugi asked.

“I'd rather you be angry with me than blame yourself,” Atemu said with a shrug. “Anger fades, guilt is baggage.”

“Okay,” Yuugi said, and Atemu perked up his head, perplexed. Yuugi shifted nearer to him, bringing up his legs to push himself. He turned on the spot and sat next to Atemu, purposely bringing their sides flush next to each other. “I won't blame myself,” Yuugi said quietly, “but I'm not going to be angry with you either.” Slowly, he reached out, and Atemu did the same. They clasped hands and one by one, they entwined their fingers. “I'm just going to hope you get better soon,” Yuugi said. “I missed you at school today. Everyone was quiet at lunch.”

Atemu squeezed his hand, and while all Yuugi could do was look at their joined hands, he knew without looking that Atemu was smiling. His stomach flipped at the thought.

A growl from Atemu's stomach distracted them both and Atemu groaned in shame, but Yuugi laughed. He took the box from the bedside table and held it aloft over their thighs. He looked to Atemu and grinned at the embarrassed flush riddled across his cheeks.

“I brought you cake,” he said, and the look of utter joy that Atemu gave him made his stomach flip with happiness.

“You're wonderful, Yuugi,” Atemu said feelingly, and Yuugi felt a warmth in his face that had nothing to do with the heat outside.

“You are too, Atemu,” Yuugi replied, and Atemu smiled softly before he leaned, touching a gentle kiss to Yuugi's cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss Vivian and Anzu already. Don't worry, tho. They'll be back. Next chapter, Melvin and Bakura return from their “errand”, and Atemu learns of Honda's manhandling. Also, expect more cute puzzle and maybe some violet.


	27. Lying Through Your Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melvin and Bakura throw down with three familiar faces, and Yuugi's visit with Atemu continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, my bad. I had originally wanted to write a long chapter for y'all, but since that was taking too long, I split the long chapter. I hope you enjoy nonetheless.  
>  **Warning: Violence in the beginning.**

“Melvin,” Bakura choked, “stop fucking around.”

They were in the middle of an alley, engaged in a brawl with three familiar faces. Their school jackets had been discarded, left abandoned on the sidelines as they fought, five teenagers grunting, sweating, and struggling to gain the upper hand. Melvin took two of the three on while Bakura was trapped within the python-like hold of Uchida, one massive arm around his neck.

“Busy!” Melvin called in annoyance as he punched Yasui and elbowed Fujioka. “Give me a second.” Yasui tackled him, sending him to the ground with bodily oomph.

Meanwhile, Bakura struggled against Uchida's headlock, wriggling from side to side, but unable to free himself or even budge the teen behind him. He could barely breathe, stifled from the heat and the unyielding hold.

“Melvi —” Bakura emitted a strangled squawk, and Uchida laughed.

“Just flip!” Melvin shouted from the ground. Twisting forward, he brought his arm up and elbowed Yasui, striking him on the cheekbone and launching him across the alley with his legs. Fujioka was immediately on top of him, and Melvin kicked him in the throat before leaping to his feet and jumping on him.

“Bloody fuck,” Bakura growled. He reached behind him, hooking Uchida under the arms and raising his leg high. With an enormous heave, Bakura brought his leg down and pulled forward, bringing him up and over. Uchida landed on the ground with a grunt of pain and Bakura gasped for breath, one hand clutching at his throat and the other bracing his aching spine.

“Shit, he's heavy,” Bakura panted, wiping the sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand.

Yasui, noting Uchida's predicament, went for Bakura's back, ramming into him with his shoulder and sending Bakura sprawling. He threw out his arms to catch himself, but landed on his chin anyway, teeth clacking and jaw stinging.

“What the straight outta fuck is going on here?” a voice thundered in the alley.

Lifting his head, Bakura's mouth dropped open in shock.

“Oh, shit,” he breathed.

Melvin, on the other hand, fit in three more punches before he finally turned his head. He dropped Fujioka and stood, blinking in surprise. Putting a hand up to his mouth, he called to Bakura.

“Hey, Florence, it's your bro,” he unnecessarily stage-whispered.

Standing at the mouth of the alley was none other than Nusutto Bakura, dressed to the nines in a suit and badly-done tie. He was holding a plastic bag in his hand and he looked downright pissed the fuck off.

It was Uchida who answered him. He stood up, glaring.

“Mind your fucking business, grandpa,” he snarled. “Keep walking.”

“Grandpa?” Nusutto laughed, a savage grin ripping across his lips. “Oh, you better watch your mouth, you fucking brat.”

“Walk away, old man,” said Yasui, turning to Nusutto as well. He puffed out his chest. “This is none of your business!”

“'Old man',” Nusutto scoffed. “These disrespectful fucking kids.” He walked over, dropping the bag as he went. Narrowing his eyes, Yasui raised his fists, and as soon as Nusutto was within reach, he swung. His fist went wide, and Nusutto quickly dodged, grabbing his hand and twisting it up behind his back. With a growl, Nusutto pushed him against the alley wall, placing a forearm at the back of his neck and pressing in. As Yasui flailed his free arm, Nusutto hissed into his ear.

“You better walk away real fucking fast before I break your fat neck, you prepubescent fucking twat.” With that, he tossed Yasui aside, kicking gravel at him. “Now fucking _get,”_ he barked. “Go!” He jerked forward and raised his arms in challenge. Recognizing his defeat, Yasui grit his teeth and ran, swiping his jacket from the ground and pulling Uchida along as he went.

When Nusutto noticed Fujioka frozen in place, he turned to him, raising an eyebrow. That was all it took for Fujioka to get up, grab his jacket, and run after them.

“Brats,” Nusutto grunted, looking to his sibling. He walked over and held out a hand. “Up,” he said, and Bakura grimaced at him, ignoring the hand and standing on his own. He brushed himself off, hissing when the action stung. Lifting his arms, he grimaced. He had skinned his forearms and palms when he had fallen. Upon closer inspection, he realized he had also ripped one of his sleeves. Plucking a pebble from the heel of his palm, he grabbed his discarded jacket from the ground and reluctantly turned to Nusutto.

“I can explain,” Bakura said, but Nusutto frowned at him, reaching out and taking Bakura's jaw into his hand, mindful of the bloody scrape. He moved it side to side, examining the damage.

“Sure made a mess of your face,” Nusutto said before Bakura pulled away. Huffing, Nusutto turned to Melvin who was retrieving his own jacket. “You alright?”

“I'm great,” Melvin replied, casually wiping the blood from his split lip onto the sleeve. “Bakura can explain.”

Bakura glared at him in betrayal, shaking out the cloth.

“Explain what?” Nusutto asked him, motioning to them and the alley in turn. “Why you idiots are fighting in an alley with other idiots?” He looked at Bakura then. “It's pretty obvious what's going on here. You're all _idiots.”_ With a sigh, he went back to the bag he dropped and picked it up, peering inside. “Oh, good,” he said, “all good.” He reached in and pulled out two popsicles. Looking to Melvin, he offered one.

“Thanks,” Melvin said, uncertain as he took it. A confused furrow formed in his brow.

“Eat it before it melts any more,” Nusutto grumbled and he made his way to Bakura, holding out the other. “Here,” he said, pushing it against Bakura's hand. “Meant to give one to Ryou, but we can stop by a convenience store before heading home.”

Bakura took it, as bewildered as Melvin.

“You're not mad?” Bakura asked, a singular eyebrow rising.

Nusutto laughed.

“I was an idiot at your age too,” Nusutto said. “Landed my ass in jail a couple times because of it. Now eat your damn ice cream.” He shook his head, huffing as he reached in and grabbed a third wrapped treat. Opening it, he held it up to his lips. “Only idiots pick a day as hot as this to start a brawl in an alley,” he muttered to himself before he stuck the melting treat into his mouth.

“So I'm not in trouble?” Bakura said, and Nusutto looked at him, noting that he had not opened his treat as of yet, the end of it clutched tightly in his hand. He did not reply right away, watching Bakura intently. Pulling out the treat, Nusutto licked his lips and took a deep breath as he averted his gaze.

“You're not in trouble,” Nusutto said to the alley wall. “But don't do it again, Touzoku. No more stupid fights.” He looked at Melvin then who had yet to open the popsicle. “I ain't your parent,” Nusutto said, pointing his popsicle at him, “but next time I call your mother.”

“My mother's dead,” Melvin replied easily. “The person you'll be calling is my aunt or sister.” He shrugged easily and began to unwrap his popsicle. “I can give you their numbers if you want.”

“Good to know,” Nusutto said slowly. He frowned, pointing to Bakura. “Where's Ryou?”

“Melvin's house,” Bakura said, licking the syrup that had dripped onto the back of his thumb. “I'm not gonna bring my little brother to a fight.”

“I sure as hell would hope not,” Nusutto shot back.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Bakura finally asked, motioning to the suit and biting into his popsicle. Melvin grimaced at him.

“I'm the crazy one, but you bite ice cream,” he muttered, and Bakura gave him the finger. “How American of you,” he said before quietly adding, “and fuck you too.”

“Job interview,” Nusutto said with a shrug. He bit into his own frozen treat, and Melvin's face screwed up at the action. “Gotta look the part, don't I?” he said, chewing on the ice.

Melvin shuddered in the background.

Reaching up, Nusutto wiggled his tie, preening.

“You're getting a _job?”_ Bakura said, bewildered. “A real job?”

“Yep,” Nusutto said. “How else am I gonna support my baby brothers?”

“Dad sends us money,” Bakura said.

“Yeah, well, dad wasn't very happy that I came back here,” Nusutto muttered, avoiding Bakura's gaze.

“Are you kidding me?” Bakura said, disbelieving, and Nusutto shrugged at him.

“I wanted to come home and he disagreed,” Nusutto said. “He'll cool down eventually, but he could take it out on you guys. Need a job anyway. I'm not just gonna sit in that apartment waiting for you and Ryou.”

“Nice to know you ain't gonna bum around while you're here,” Bakura huffed.

Instead of replying, Nusutto raised a hand and ruffled his brother's hair with an affectionate smile.

“Dammit Nusutto,” Bakura whined, smacking his hand and cursing when it hurt. As he shook off the pain, he glared, but Nusutto only grinned.

* * *

“Oh, ew,” Malik complained as he walked into the kitchen with Ryou right behind him. “They're being gross.”

Ryou looked around Malik to see a peeved Atemu sitting at the table, holding out a spoonful of chocolate cake to a blushing Yuugi. Malik had already changed out of his school uniform, replacing it with a baggy, striped, white tee half-tucked into red shorts. Atemu glared at Malik, clearing his throat pointedly.

“If you don't like it,” Atemu said testily, “you can leave.”

_“You_ leave,” Malik scoffed. _“I_ live here. Go be gross in your own house.”

“We're not even doing anything,” Atemu argued. Beside him, Yuugi shifted uncomfortably, the tips of his ears a bright pink.

“I think it's sweet that they're feeding each other,” Ryou said with a soft smile.

“No, I'm pretty sure it's gross,” Malik insisted.

“Malik,” Ryou admonished. “Let them be cute together. Don't be bitter.”

“Who's bitter?” Malik demanded. “I'm offended!” He huffed as he turned around and walked into the living room. Grabbing the remote off the coffee table, he turned on the television and plummeted onto the couch. “C'mon, let's watch my drama since Melvin's not home. He's so exaggerated — I can never hear over him shouting at the characters.”

“Wanna join us?” Ryou asked Yuugi and Atemu.

Turning to Atemu, Yuugi smiled timidly.

“Do you want to?” he asked.

“I kinda want to stay over here,” Atemu said. “But if you want to, I don't mind.”

“I kinda want to stay over here too,” Yuugi admitted, and Atemu smiled at him. Looking back to Ryou, he shook his head. “We're fine here,” Yuugi said.

“Alright,” Ryou replied with a smile, and he left to join Malik on the couch. As soon as he sat, Malik stretched over him, using his lap as a foot rest.

“Really?” Ryou sighed, and Malik nudged his stomach with a toe.

“Shush, it's starting,” Malik said.

* * *

After the program, when Yuugi and Atemu had finished the cake, and Malik and Ryou were deeply immersed into another television show, Yuugi looked at Atemu and smiled to himself in contentment.

“It's funny,” Atemu was saying, “because even though Melvin had cornered me and summoned Ra, I got lucky on my next turn and drew the card that saved me. I know it's just a game, but sometimes when we're in the middle of it” — he took a deep breath and sighed it out — “it really feels like our souls are on the line.”

“It really is just a game,” Yuugi said, amused, and Atemu blushed.

Embarrassed, he ducked his head and avoided Yuugi's gaze.

“You're right, it's silly,” Atemu said, laughing at himself.

“I know what you mean, though,” Yuugi said, and Atemu raised his head. Yuugi nodded at him seriously. “Sometimes I get so caught up in a duel that I forget I don't actually have anything to lose.” He smiled warmly, and Atemu stared at him for a long moment before returning the gesture in gratitude.

Yuugi blushed and abruptly cleared his throat.

“So anyway,” Atemu muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand, “that's how I got my god card back. I wish I'd brought my deck with me so I could show you, but I left it at my house.”

“I'd really like to see it,” Yuugi said, and Atemu beamed. “We can go to your house next time and I'll bring my deck. We can duel.”

Atemu paled.

“Uh,” Atemu faltered. “Maybe when I feel better,” he said, unable to hide the grimace from his face.

“Are you in pain?” Yuugi asked, brow creased in sympathy. He reached out a hand as if to soothe the ache, letting it hang in the air. “Where does it hurt?”

“No-no, I'm fine!” Atemu quickly reassured him, waving his injured hand at him.

“But you made this face like you were in pain,” Yuugi said, dropping his hand, and Atemu shook his head.

“No, I'm not,” Atemu insisted, attempting to quell Yuugi's worry. “I just don't feel like going home. I'm fine. I'm not in pain, I promise.” He smiled, but Yuugi was still frowning in concern.

“You don't feel like going home?” Yuugi said. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything's great,” Atemu readily replied, a warm smile crossing his lips. “I don't think things have ever been better than right now.”

A happy feeling encircled Yuugi's stomach, and he smiled, cheeks filling with color.

“I'm really happy to hear that,” Yuugi said, “but that's not what I meant.”

“Oh,” Atemu said, and he carefully cleared his expression. “You mean at home.” He gulped.

Atemu looked at Yuugi for a moment, measuring his gaze, and his eyes averted themselves to the table. He opened his mouth to speak and hesitated for just a moment before he swallowed. His heart began to pound as he cleared his throat and tried again.

“Everything's fine,” he said evenly.

“Okay,” Yuugi said uncertainly. “I don't mean to pry. I just thought maybe you were avoiding your parents.”

“What?” Atemu breathed, and his eyes darted to the living room before returning to Yuugi.

“Well,” Yuugi said, shifting uncomfortably. His eyes roved Atemu's face, lingering on his cuts and bruises before settling on his torn lip with a heavy heart. “I just heard that people who get in fights a lot have trouble at home,” Yuugi said, and he squirmed in his seat, grimacing. “Not that you do — sorry, it's none of my business. I didn't mean to assume anything. I hope I didn't cross a line by asking.”

“I-it's okay,” Atemu said, and he placed a hand over Yuugi's on the table. “I understand.” He cleared his throat. “But everything's fine.”

“Okay,” Yuugi said, a relieved breath escaping his lungs. “I'm glad. I just want you to know that if there's anything you ever want to talk about” — he shrugged — “you can talk to me.”

“Thank you, little one,” Atemu said softly, and he lifted Yuugi's hand to gently hold.

Yuugi blushed, happy as he held Atemu's hand, his fingers brushing over the bandage covering his palm. Atemu's gaze was replete with affection, and his stomach filled with fluttering butterflies. In that moment, Yuugi thought he could kiss him.

But before Yuugi could even consider leaning in, Melvin walked into the house, kicking off his shoes and greeting the room at large.

“Hey, butt-faces,” he called as he launched the jacket in his hands onto the recliner.

“Melvin!” shrieked Ryou with relief. Melvin's blonde head jerked around to look at him, eyebrows raised, and a brilliant blush suffused Ryou's face. Lying on the couch, Malik cackled, covering his face with both hands to muffle the sound. Tossing him a peeved look, Ryou cleared his throat and shrugged, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “You startled me,” he said lamely, and Melvin's brow furrowed.

“Uh-huh,” he said dubiously.

“What happened to your face?” Ryou sidetracked, noticing his cuts and bruises with concern.

“Got too friendly,” Melvin easily replied, and Ryou frowned.

“Uh, where's Touzoku?” Ryou asked, and Melvin raised a hand to point his thumb behind him.

“Outside with your other brother,” Melvin said.

“Great!” Ryou squeaked, and he quickly threw off Malik's legs, upsetting him. He stood as Malik uttered an annoyed yowl and raced past Melvin to the outside.

Melvin turned to watch him go with a skeptical brow before directing his attention to Atemu and Yuugi.

“Ugh, go be gross somewhere else,” he said, an offended twist to his features, and Atemu covertly showed him a very rude gesture. Melvin huffed in amusement and looked to Malik next. “Did you do your homework?”

“No,” Malik said uncaringly, cheek resting on his hand as he watched the television.

“Go do it,” Melvin said, and Malik groaned, lifting his head.

“Why?” Malik whined.

“Because I said so,” Melvin said obviously. “Duh.”

“You suck,” Malik said, but he turned off the television and stood, meandering up the stairs regardless. Everyone could hear him grumbling as he went.

“What _really_ happened to your face?” Atemu asked once Malik had gone, and Melvin walked over, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket. He dumped it on the table and went to the fridge next. He spoke as Atemu grabbed it and opened it up.

“That's your homework,” Melvin said. “And don't worry about my face. Just some unfinished business.”

“If you say so,” Atemu said indifferently, his gaze moving over the notebook paper. He turned to Yuugi, opening his mouth to say something, but he paused. Yuugi's expression was different, his violet eyes narrowed on Melvin with a troubled pucker on his brow. “Yuugi?”

Yuugi startled at his voice before casting Atemu a small smile.

“Yes?” Yuugi asked.

“You okay?” Atemu returned.

“Yeah,” Yuugi mumbled, lowering his gaze as Melvin turned their way, drinking heavily from a large bottle of water. “'M fine,” he said.

Melvin lowered the bottle, wiping his bloody lip on his sleeve and peering at his watch.

“Aw, I missed my show,” Melvin groaned as he noticed the time.

“The twin dies,” Atemu said, and Melvin stared at him, mouth agape.

“Why would you do that?” he demanded. “Now I'm not gonna be surprised!” His upset turned to curiosity in a second and he leaned on the table with interest, setting down the bottle. “Who killed him, was it the step-father?”

“That's next week's episode,” Atemu said, noting with a frown that Yuugi had yet to raise his head.

He said nothing.

“Didn't you hear Nusutto?” came Bakura's voice, directing everyone's attention to the door as Bakura walked in. He wriggled out of his shoes, rolling his eyes. “I'm fine. I don't have to go to the stupid clinic!” He tentatively stepped into the living room, his shoulders stiff as he looked around. He spotted Atemu and Yuugi at the table, and he loosened his stance, an odd sense of relief in his gaze.

Atemu was quick to notice Malik was nowhere to be seen.

Between Melvin and Bakura, it was Bakura who appeared worse for wear. His chin was scraped, his eyebrow split, and there was a massive bruise blossoming from his forehead to his cheekbone on the left side of his face, stark against his pale skin. Melvin, on the other hand, sported only a cut lip and bruised cheek.

“Yo,” Bakura greeted Atemu. “How bored were _you_ today?”

But Atemu did not get the chance to answer.

“Well, if you're not going to the clinic, at least let me fix you up!” Ryou argued as he followed. He closed the door behind himself and came to stand at Bakura's side.

“Your bro ain't staying?” Melvin asked, seating himself at the table with a silent exhale. He took up the bottle, offering it to Bakura who screwed up his face at the blood covering the rim. He shook his head in a repulsed negative.

“No,” Bakura snorted, answering the question. “Why would he stay with a bunch of teenagers?”

Melvin nodded, conceding the point.

“Don't ignore me!” Ryou snapped, stomping his foot on the floor, and Melvin snorted in amusement. Blushing, Ryou kept his attention on his brother. “That scrape on your chin is going to get infected. There's dirt and — are those _rocks?”_ Ryou's eyes widened as he peered at Bakura's chin. “You still have pebbles in it!”

“Even Malik isn't this annoying,” Bakura muttered under his breath. He reached up a hand and wiped at his brow, wincing at the movement. He peered at his arm with a grimace.

Ryou took a deep breath, readying himself to blow.

“You —” Ryou managed before he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Hey, Yuugi!”

Behind Bakura, Malik had descended the stairs, and he was looking straight at Yuugi. Next to Ryou, Bakura stiffened where he stood. The rest of them turned their gazes to the stairs where Malik flipped his hair away from his neck.

“Come help me,” Malik whined, heading for the table. He ignored Bakura's presence and paused next to Ryou, nudging him in the side. Melvin leaned his elbows on the table, eyes wary as he gazed at Bakura. “You too,” Malik said.

“Wait,” Ryou said, distressed, “I need to fix this idiot up first.” He pointed at Bakura, and if possible, Bakura tensed even more, his hands clenched beside him.

Like a reflex, Malik inadvertently cast his gaze in the direction Ryou indicated, and he froze, his breath stilling in his lungs.

A beat passed, and Malik could not look away.

Bakura was looking back at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in days. He should have been surprised that Bakura was looking at him at all, but a surreal fog had taken hold of Malik's brain, and he had the odd realization that he had forgotten about the gray flecks in Bakura's brown eyes. Easy to miss by the casual observer. Malik breathed slowly and felt the need to swallow, but refrained, unwilling to move even a single muscle. It felt like being in the presence of a deer. One false move could send Bakura running.

“Oh, hell,” Melvin sighed in exasperation, and the room went eerily quiet.

Malik swore he could hear his very heartbeat.

At the table, Yuugi shrank in his chair, deeply uncomfortable under the significant increase of tension in the kitchen.

Clenching his jaw, Atemu gazed between his cousin and his friend, tempted to roll his eyes. Turning his attention to Yuugi, he frowned at the concern etched onto his face. He did not like seeing Yuugi look so worried. Resolved to fix it, Atemu loudly cleared his throat and rubbed a soothing thumb over Yuugi's hand.

It worked, and Yuugi relaxed, casting him a weak smile in turn.

The spell had broken, and Bakura looked away first, lifting his gaze to examine the wall as if it held some secret he desperately needed to know. Malik was quick to mimic the action, his trembling hands slipping into his pockets as he turned away.

“Do what you want, Ryou,” Bakura spoke, his quiet voice sonorous in the silence of the room. “Just stop nagging me.”

“Some people wish they had such a caring sibling,” Ryou was quick to retort, trying to get a glimpse of Malik's face. But Malik was already leaving the room.

Ryou frowned.

“Tell them they can have you,” Bakura snorted, but the usual bite behind his words was sorely lacking.

“Ingrate,” Ryou said, directing his gaze to his brother. He smiled. “I'll get the first aid kit.” He turned to Melvin and opened his mouth, but before he could get a single word out, Malik's footsteps returned. Looking around, Ryou saw the kit in his hand. “Oh, you brought it!” Ryou said.

Malik did not answer. He headed for them with purpose, hand extended, and Bakura twitched in surprise. His movement triggered something in Malik, and at that moment, he realized what he was doing. Hesitating, Malik noted Bakura's surprise and forced himself to turn. He swerved around Bakura at the last second, gently placing the kit on the table before Melvin. His eyes were too wide, his heart beating too fast.

His hands would not stop shaking.

“Here, your face is off-putting,” Malik said, grateful that his words, at least, would not give him away. Though he faced Melvin, the words were not meant for him, but that knowledge would remain safely with Malik.

With that, Malik turned on his heel and grabbed Ryou by his arm. He gripped him harder than he meant to, attempting to hide the trembling of his hand.

Thankfully, Ryou said nothing of it.

“Come on,” Malik mumbled. “Let's do our dumb homework.” He pulled Ryou along, turning his head as he stepped onto the first stair. “Come on, Yuugi.”

“C-coming!” Yuugi hastily called. He eyed Bakura's disgruntled expression, filing the information away. Bakura was not as calm as he appeared to be. Yuugi was sure he was hiding how he truly felt, much like Malik did. Looking to Atemu, Yuugi smiled. “I'm going,” he said. “I probably won't be long.”

“I'll come too,” Atemu said, already trying to lift himself from his chair.

“I don't think that's such a good idea,” Yuugi said, and Atemu halted mid-rise, looking at him in confusion. “I need to concentrate.”

“But —” Atemu protested, his face screwed up in bewilderment, when it suddenly turned to surprise as Yuugi's words clicked, and his expression cleared. “Oh,” he said, and he sat back down.

“I'll be quick,” Yuugi promised with a second smile, and he left the kitchen, following after his friends.

“Bye,” Atemu waved after him, still dumbstruck.

The kitchen was quiet once more until Melvin spoke. He sighed, long and tired.

“It's never going to stop being awkward with you, is it,” he said to Bakura, but it was not a question. He looked at his friend, the edges of his lips threatening to twist at the forced calm Bakura sported.

Instead of giving him the satisfaction of a reply, Bakura huffed and pulled out a chair for himself. Sitting upon it, he pulled the first aid kit to himself and stared at it. He did nothing else, his eyes dull and filled with remorse he tried to hide behind a grimace.

However, Melvin could see right through him, and grabbed the bottle on the table. He did not take his eyes off Bakura as he raised it to his lips. When Bakura's shoulders slumped heavily, he scoffed, his hold tightening on the plastic.

“Thought so,” Melvin said, and he drank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue the “Why you always lying?” meme song.
> 
> Seems not everyone is being entirely truthful. These teens each have something to hide whether it be feelings, motives, or home life.
> 
> What do y'all hope to see next chapter?

**Author's Note:**

> I would like my readers to note that I am bilingual and anyone who would prefer to comment in Spanish is welcome to.
> 
>  **Important:** Opinions expressed in this fic (by the characters) do not reflect my own.
> 
> Follow me on twitter [@nanadanonini](https://twitter.com/nanadanonini)! I post writing updates, life tidbits, line excerpts, and more! It's also great to let y'all know if I'm delaying a chapter update! You can also interact with me. ♡
> 
> Kindly support this author with kudos and comments!


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